Colonel Theoneste Bagosora, widely recognized as the mastermind behind the Genocide Against Tutsi, not only organized the killings but also shaped the early narratives of denial. After fleeing to Cameroon in the aftermath of the Genocide against the Tutsi, on October 30, 1995, Bagosora wrote a document, titled "President Habyarimana’s Assassination, or the Final Tutsi Operation to Regain Power in Rwanda Using Force." In this apologia, Bagosora laid the foundation for the denialist narrative that would be repeated by many.
Bagosora framed the genocide as a consequence of the RPF’s actions, claiming that the Tutsi-led rebel group had intentionally provoked reprisals by downing Habyarimana’s plane. He suggested that the RPF's leadership knew the assassination would spark mass violence, but they pursued it to justify resuming the civil war and taking control of Rwanda. Bagosora accused the Tutsi of sacrificing their own people for political gain.
The ICTR Trial Chamber Judgement of December 3, 2003, in Prosecutor v. Ferdinand Nahimana, Jean-Bosco Barayagwiza and Hassan Ngeze Case No. ICTR-99-52-T debunks the narrative. "Kangura issues published in 1994 are not notably distinct from issues of Kangura published prior to 1994. In the articles reviewed, there is more focus on the military threat of the Inkotanyi and repeated warnings that an attack by the RPF would provoke the killing not only of Inkotanyi but of those inside the country, loosely called "accomplices” but clearly intended to refer to the Tutsi population. (para. 230)
The following paragraph reads: "The clear message conveyed by the articles published in Kangura in the first three months of 1994 was that an RPF attack would provoke the slaughter of innocent Tutsi within the country and that the RPF would be responsible for having triggered this killing. (para. 231)
Paragraph 953 of the Judgement states: "The Defence contends that the downing of the President’s plane and the death of President Habyarimana precipitated the killing of innocent Tutsi civilians. The Chamber accepts that this moment in time served as a trigger for the events that followed. That is evident. But if the downing of the plane was the trigger, then RTLM, Kangura and CDR were the bullets in the gun. The trigger had such a deadly impact because the gun was loaded. The Chamber therefore considers the killing of Tutsi civilians can be said to have resulted, at least in part, from the message of ethnic targeting for death that was clearly and effectively disseminated through RTLM, Kangura and CDR, before and after 6 April 1994.”
A dangerous discourse
For decades, genocidaires, their supporters and defenders, have clung to a singular narrative in their attempt to mitigate the crimes of the 1994 Genocide Against the Tutsi. While acknowledging that killings did occur, they assert that the mass slaughter was not premeditated but rather a spontaneous reaction to the death of President Juvénal Habyarimana, whose plane was shot down on April 6, 1994. This argument serves as their shield, as it removes the element of intent—mens rea—thus absolving them of the guilt of planning and systematically executing a genocide.
This narrative was constructed to make its defenders feel morally lighter, suggesting that the genocide was not the result of deliberate planning but an unfortunate accident sparked by the chaotic aftermath of Habyarimana's death. By framing the violence as an impulsive reaction, they hope to erase the monstrous truth: that the genocide was a well-orchestrated campaign to eliminate the Tutsi population. Yet, in doing so, they expose the "Hutu" community to a demeaning and deeply problematic portrayal. This defense, far from being a clever tactic, is an insult of unimaginable proportions to the very people it purports to protect.
The spontaneous-reaction narrative reduces the "Hutu" population to mindless, irrational actors who would slaughter their neighbors, friends, wives, and children merely because Habyarimana’s plane had been shot down. It implies that upon hearing of the president’s death, "Hutu” men and women across the country suddenly became savage killers and even cannibals, devoid of reason or humanity. This narrative strips the Hutu of their agency and rationality, painting them as a frenzied mob incapable of making independent decisions, but rather driven by a wave of uncontrollable violence.
Consider the absurdity of this line of defense. Are we to believe that a man would murder his wife or children, people he had loved and lived with for years, simply because a distant political leader had died in a plane crash? Or that a Catholic priest, like Father Athanase Seromba, would order the demolition of a church, killing hundreds of Tutsi who had sought refuge there, as an impulsive reaction to Habyarimana’s assassination? Such actions could only have been the result of deep-seated, premeditated hatred, nurtured and stoked over time by the genocidal propaganda spread by political and military leaders. The "spontaneity" narrative collapses under the weight of its own absurdity.
This narrative, if accepted, not only belittles the memory of the genocide but also shifts the blame away from the key architects of the violence. It implies that there was no grand design, no systematic intent to exterminate the Tutsi population. Instead, it presents the killings as the unfortunate byproduct of a leader’s death, rather than the culmination of years of deliberate planning, propaganda, and hate speech. The real masterminds of the genocide—those who prepared lists of Tutsi targets, who distributed weapons to militias, who organized roadblocks—are conveniently cast as victims of circumstance, rather than the orchestrators of a genocidal campaign.
Moreover, this defense creates a treacherous precedent by weakening the established legal definition of genocide. Genocide, as defined by international law, requires the intent to destroy a particular group in whole or in part. By arguing that the genocide was an impulsive act, genocidaires and their defenders undermine the very concept of genocidal intent. If such mass killings can be excused as a spontaneous reaction, it erodes the legal and moral principles that hold perpetrators accountable for their actions, opening the door for future genocides to be similarly excused or downplayed.
Equally damaging is the cultural and psychological impact of this narrative on the "Hutu” as a people. To suggest that the entire population could be driven to murder by a single event, without premeditation, portrays the "Hutu" as foolish and barbaric. It denies the rich, complex history of Rwandan society, where Hutu and Tutsi lived side by side for centuries as social rather than ethnic groups. It implies that, in an instant, long-standing relationships, marriages, and friendships could be shattered, with people turning into mass murderers simply because of the death of a political figure they likely never knew personally.
An affront to memory and dignity
This demeaning portrayal is a deep insult to the humanity and dignity of the "Hutu" people. The notion that ordinary individuals would murder their loved ones or neighbors on a whim, without any deeper ideological or emotional conditioning, not only defies basic human psychology but also whitewashes the systematic indoctrination and hate speech that preceded the genocide. Radio stations, newspapers, and political leaders had spent years dehumanizing the Tutsi, preparing the population for mass murder. The genocide was not an eruption of chaos—it was the culmination of a well-planned, state-sponsored extermination.
The harm caused by this defense does not stop with the "Hutu" community. It also deeply wounds the survivors of the genocide, as it diminishes their suffering. The narrative of spontaneity suggests that the murder of their families was not the result of a calculated, genocidal plan but rather an unfortunate accident—an emotional overreaction to an isolated event. This framing robs survivors of their right to justice, as it reframes their suffering as collateral damage, rather than the outcome of a deliberate attempt to annihilate them as a group.
Furthermore, the spontaneous-reaction defense undermines Rwanda’s efforts at reconciliation. Post-genocide Rwanda has been committed to truth-telling, justice, and reconciliation. By denying the intentionality of the genocide, this defense threatens to unravel the delicate social fabric that has been painstakingly rebuilt over the last three decades. Reconciliation can only occur when the truth is acknowledged—when both perpetrators and victims confront the full reality of what happened. Revisionist or denialist narratives like the spontaneous-reaction defense risk the undermining the progress Rwanda has made in its post-genocide recovery.
The international implications of this defense are equally troubling. The narrative of spontaneity absolves not only the perpetrators but also the international community, which failed to intervene during the genocide. By portraying the killings as unplanned, defenders of this narrative conveniently absolve the United Nations and other international actors of their moral responsibility for failing to prevent the genocide. If the killings were unplanned, the argument goes, there was no way the international community could have known or intervened in time. This revisionist framing allows those who turned a blind eye to the genocide to escape accountability for their complicity through inaction.
The idea of spontaneity has long-term consequences for the younger generation in Rwanda and the region. Many Rwandan youths are grappling with their country’s painful history, trying to understand the actions of their parents and grandparents. By framing the genocide as an emotional outburst rather than a premeditated crime, this narrative deprives them of the opportunity to engage with their history in a meaningful way. It reduces their ancestors to puppets of circumstance, denying them the ability to reckon with the moral choices and responsibilities that shaped the genocide.
The defense of spontaneity surrounding the Genocide Against the Tutsi is not only a distortion of history but also a profound insult to all Rwandans. It diminishes the humanity of the "Hutu” population by portraying them as mindless killers and erases the suffering of the victims by denying the deliberate, premeditated nature of their extermination. This narrative undermines justice, reconciliation, and historical accountability, both in Rwanda and internationally. The time has come for those who cling to this revisionist line of defense to confront the truth: the genocide was not an accident. It was a meticulously planned and executed campaign of extermination, and to deny this fact is to perpetuate an unforgivable insult to the dignity and humanity of all Rwandans.
The author is a Genocide Scholar .