A Congolese humanitarian catastrophe is in the making and the central figure in this tragic drama stands poised to storm the capital, warns Gamal Nkrumah Had things gone differently, General Laurent Nkunda, leader of the National Congress for the Defence of the People might have been a comedian, a lawyer, a preacher or a sportsman. Instead, the leader of the main armed opposition group in eastern Congo at the moment has become one of the most controversial warlords the country has ever encountered. Nkunda's rapid rise to power need not kill all hope of peacemaking in Africa's tormented Great Lakes region. Nkunda has bravely adopted unpopular positions. He is adept with arms, a brilliant military strategist and an instinctive politician to boot. That is not to say that he is a likeable fellow. Nkunda's temperament, invariably his weak spot, has in the past few days been found wanting. He audaciously challenges the authority of his hitherto nominal superior Congolese President Joseph Kabila and pays allegiance to the Machiavellian Rwandan President Paul Kagame. Nkunda, an ethnic Tutsi like Kagame, insists that he is no stooge. His people have faith in him. He instills both fear and loathing among his enemies. The burning question is whether Nkunda is Kagame's man in the Congo. As a key figure in the recent bout of fighting, Nkunda has emerged as a messianic saviour to his followers, and a satanic charlatan to his detractors. A devout Pentecostal Christian Nkunda, also known as Laurent Nkundabatware or Laurent Nkunda Batware, is something of a cult figure in the eastern Congo. He receives moral, and perhaps even material, support from American Pentecostal Christian groups -- he is on record as admitting this. His close links to the Christian right in America has aroused suspicions among his critics that he has a hidden agenda. He himself does not deny this Christian connection. Indeed, he is proud of the association. Saintly or satanic, Nkunda was indicted for war crimes in September 2005 and is under investigation by the International Criminal Court. Human rights groups in Congo and abroad accuse him of enlisting child soldiers in his army. How many of those adolescent Nkunda enthusiasts will be solid Nkundists in the years to come? Indeed, in May 2002, he was charged for massacring 160 people in the eastern Congolese metropolis of Kisangani, prompting UN Human Rights Commissioner Mary Robinson to request his immediate arrest. Robinson's calls went unheeded and Nkunda roams freely throughout the rugged terrain of his remote homeland. He professes to be a man of the people, and vehemently denies his critics' claims that he let himself be dragged into a calamitous war of Kagame's making. He speaks English, French, Swahili, and Kinyarwanda, not to mention the Pentecostal otherworldly vernacular, and is acknowledged even by his foes as being a sophisticate. The former psychology student now fancies himself the punchy politician from the eastern backwaters of Congo. He is willing to take on Kinshasa, he boasts. Nkunda cannot fathom that storming the capital, which he is threatening and which his late patron Laurent-Désiré Kabila did successfully with Nkunda's help, is yesterday's fancy. Even so, the followers of Nkunda yearn for an independent-minded leader who rails against corruption in high places and will ensure their Tutsi rights, especially after their tragic massacre in Rwanda in 1994. His young followers are not particularly interested in tribal squabbles -- Tutsi vs Hutu and everyone else -- that started long before they were born. It was the Belgian colonial masters who instilled a deep sense of tribal identity among the political and economic elite of what is now Rwanda, Burundi and eastern Congo. The Tutsi were placed at the apex of the social pyramid, and are widely considered to be the Jews of Africa, generally better educated and better off economically due to their colonial heritage. The Hutu were heaped at the bottom. The vestiges of the colonial divisions linger on, and leaders like Nkunda are still perceived as tribalists. He says he is no tribalist, and as proof that he was always prepared to join the ranks of armies led by men of rival clans and ethnic groups, he fought alongside the late Kabila senior, who successfully overthrew the late Congolese dictator Mobutu Sese Seku. His young followers include non-Tutsis and his appeal is more in terms of clean government and social justice, whatever the reality may be. Nkunda now pledges to storm Kinshasa once again; this time, to oust his mentor's son, Joseph Kabila. Yet, there is no denial that he was a member of the Tutsi-dominated Rwandan Patriotic Front. Upon his return to Congo, he joined the ranks of the Congolese Rally for Democracy (RDC). In 2003, with the official end to the second Congolese war, Nkunda enlisted in the new integrated national army of the Transitional Government of the Democratic Republic of the Congo as a Colonel and 2004 saw him promptly promoted to general. However, he had set his sight on higher goals. Certainly, Nkunda's military career took off spectacularly. He took to the African bush at the tender age of 15 to conduct an intractable war that he threatens would end not only in Goma, the regional capital of South Kivu province and one of the largest eastern Congolese cities, but in the Congolese capital Kinshasa itself. It is a mystery whether he wants a Rwanda-controlled Kivu or a unified Congo under his tight-fisted rule. He has some claim to better represent Congo than President Joseph Kabila, who is rumoured to be a Rwandan Tutsi, in spite of his father's impeccable Congolese credentials. Nkunda claims that Hutu militias are out to get his people. It is groups like the notorious Mai Mai, a motley ragtag army of self-styled tribal warlords, traditional chieftains and village heads, operative in northern Kivu, who give the Hutu insurgents a bad name. Remnants of the Mai Mai still maraud in different parts of the countryside in the northern reaches of Kivu. So where does the Congolese government stand? Kinshasa has the backing of Western powers. After all, Kabila is a democratically- elected president. British Foreign Secretary David Miliband and French Foreign Minister Bernard Kouchner have spared no time in flying to Congo to assess the situation for themselves. They know that in battle, Kabila is no match for Nkunda. In that respect, Kabila is a gamble as far as Western powers are concerned. Yet, they cannot contemplate the likes of Nkunda in power, despite his US Pentecostal credentials. The Congolese government, however, does not want to be seen to be in outright opposition to Rwanda, the tiny country that calls the shots in eastern Congo. "The prevailing assumption that the crisis is a matter between Rwanda and the DR Congo is wrong," read a Congolese government statement released this week. Political fire, far from rattling Nkunda, appears to bring out the best in him. The United Nations acts as a buffer between the Congolese government forces and Nkunda's army. The UN, however, is not prepared to intervene in large urban settlements. "Our mandate is not to defend cities," explained Alain Le Ray, the UN peacekeeping chief. In other words, the UN's largest peacekeeping mission in Africa and the world is in no position to defend civilians in Congolese cities. Le Roy, as head of the 17,000 UN contingent in the country, has publicly conceded that his forces cannot protect all the Congolese civilians. All that is rather bad news for the investors hoping to do lucrative business in the mineral-rich Congo. The 1999 Lusaka Accord to guarantee peace among the Congolese has long been forgotten. A new dispensation is now firmly in place. The second Congo War (1998- 2003) was so devastating that the Congolese and their neighbours dread the eruption of a third Congolese war. The people of Congo are tired of fighting. They desperately want to extricate themselves from endless conflict. Nkunda and his ilk have revived the bitter culture wars that have ravaged the Congo. That puts the Congolese peace process into cold storage for the time being. As UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown said recently, and rather ominously, "We must not allow Congo to become another Rwanda." Still, in the mists of the lofty eastern Congolese mountains, there is always a silver lining, if only the longsuffering resilient Congolese people.
