In the great theater of international diplomacy, few acts are as baffling as the collective blindfold donned by the world when it comes to the Democratic Republic of Congo (DR Congo). There is a phenomenon one can call the hypnotic narrative of Rwanda-bashing. When it comes to President Félix Tshisekedi, one cannot help but marvel at his ingenious ability to turn a nation’s systemic failures into a dramatic one-man show of political escapism. The DRC’s leadership has never lacked theatrics, but Tshisekedi has raised the bar—expertly weaving a tapestry of blame, propaganda, and dull promises that have enthralled his audience. In his desperation to maintain the illusion of control, Tshisekedi has resorted to what can only be described as political abracadabra—tricks designed to confuse and hypnotize his audience. His greatest feat yet is dragging the Southern African Development Community (SADC) into the quagmire of eastern Congo. By framing the internal conflict as a fight against foreign aggression, Tshisekedi has convinced SADC to send troops into what is essentially a civil war. This is not a move born of strategic foresight. It is a gamble, a dangerous game of political hypnotism that risks entangling SADC in a conflict with no clear objectives or exit strategy. Tshisekedi’s mumbo jumbo has turned a domestic rebellion into a regional crisis, further complicating an already volatile situation. His refusal to negotiate with the M23 is a glaring omission, a testament to his unwillingness to confront reality. What makes this approach particularly tragic is the missed opportunity for genuine leadership. Tshisekedi’s first term was ripe with potential for transformational politics. Instead, he opted for the low-hanging fruit of divisive rhetoric, cementing his position as a populist rather than a reformist. The result? A country spiraling deeper into chaos, with no structural solutions in sight. The window for meaningful change has slammed shut. Tshisekedi’s second term is now a high-stakes game of political survival, where rhetoric trumps reason, and propaganda replaces policy. *Rwanda as a punching bag and the cheering enablers* With the aplomb of an experienced conjurer, Tshisekedi has managed to transform the DRC’s internal chaos into a grand spectacle of blame-shifting and deflection. His magic trick? Convincing a beleaguered Congolese populace and gullible foreign allies that all of the DRC’s problems—from decades of corruption to the proliferation of armed groups—are the handiwork of a single, malevolent neighbor: Rwanda. At the heart of this spectacle lies the unwavering mantra: “Blame Rwanda, bash Kagame, and all will be forgiven.” It’s a playbook that resonates with a frustrated populace yearning for explanations to their endless suffering. Why are schools collapsing? Rwanda. Why can’t we build roads? Kagame. Why are Congolese citizens starving while Tshisekedi’s elite enrich themselves? Clearly, Kigali is plotting again. The audience—comprising the United Nations, Western powers, and regional stakeholders—applauds the wrong actors, enabling a regime whose policies are a masterclass in destruction. And presiding over this dystopian circus is none other than President Félix Tshisekedi, whose political presto has turned the DRC into a cauldron of instability. The hypocrisy of international reactions is as amazing as Tshisekedi’s performances. The United Nations, embodied by its hapless peacekeeping mission MONUSCO, nods approvingly as the DRC government refuses to negotiate with the Alliance Fleuve Congo/M23 (AFC/M23) rebels—Congolese citizens fighting for survival against a state that brands them as foreign invaders. Meanwhile, mercenaries from foreign lands are flown in to guard Tshisekedi and fight his battles, a blatant violation of international law that the world conveniently overlooks. It’s okay with DRC! Isn’t it? MONUSCO, which has been in the DRC for over two decades, has failed to tackle the real issues—verbal incitements that exacerbate ethnic hatred, targeted killings, and even reports of cannibalism against specific groups. This glaring ineffectiveness compounds the suffering of innocent civilians, who have nowhere to turn for protection or justice. The usefulness of Rwanda knocking This Rwanda bashing narrative, is not merely a convenient scapegoat or an exercise in political distraction —it is the lifeline of Tshisekedi’s political survival honed to perfection in the two-faced world of Congolese politics. Facing the twin threats of an angry electorate and unprincipled political rivals like Martin Fayulu or Denis Mukwege breathing down his neck, he has no choice but to outshine them in the Rwanda/Kagame-bashing competition. Tshisekedi discovered that the more he drums up anti-Rwanda rhetoric, the more he consolidates his political base. If Fayulu or Denis Mukwege accuses Rwanda twice, Tshisekedi must do so thrice. The strategy is simple: whoever yells “Kagame!” the loudest wins the hearts of an electorate conditioned to externalize their grievances. This isn’t governance; it’s Congolese political hypnotism, a spellbinding performance designed to distract from their own administration’s failures while fooling enough of the people, enough of the time. Anti-Rwanda rhetoric is not just for domestic consumption; it’s the ace in the high-stakes game of Congolese politics. They picked up on the effectiveness of Kagame-bashing, and the competition is now a race to see who can sling the most mud at Kigali. Tshisekedi knows the vitriolic narratives propelled him to a controversial second term—despite the glaring developmental failures that characterize his administration. The DRC has no appetite for genuine reform; it is now a theater of survival, where illusion and deception rule the day. The country’s crises are as old as its post-independence history: endemic corruption, insecurity, poverty, and weak governance—until further notice! Let us hope that some of his enablers know—for Tshisekedi, these are not issues to solve—they are tools to weaponize. By shifting the blame to Rwanda and portraying himself as the defender of Congolese sovereignty, Tshisekedi has crafted a storyline that absolves his government of accountability. For him, the only viable strategy is to keep the delusion alive—at all costs. In the Congolese political marketplace, demonizing Rwanda and its president, Paul Kagame, has become a currency for political legitimacy. This shortsighted strategy has turned Rwanda into the scapegoat-in-chief of Congolese politics, with no regard for the long-term consequences. The dangers of this escapism are profound. By refusing to negotiate with AFC/M23—a movement born of genuine grievances within the DRC—Tshisekedi is sowing the seeds of perpetual conflict. *Lessons from genocidaires and their influence* The group’s demands are neither outrageous nor external; they stem from decades of marginalization, insecurity, and ethnic persecution. Yet Tshisekedi persists in framing them as Rwandan puppets, a convenient lie that absolves his government of responsibility. For some of us who closely followed the political crisis in Rwanda in the early 1990s, there is a Habyarimana parallel—déjà vu in Kinshasa. Tshisekedi’s refusal to engage directly with the M23 is eerily reminiscent of Juvenal Habyarimana’s tactics in the early 1990s. The Rwandan president stubbornly refused to acknowledge the civil-war nature of the RPF conflict. Habyarimana insisted on negotiating with President Yoweri Museveni of Uganda rather than the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF)—denying the civil-war nature of the conflict. Tshisekedi mirrors this denial, insisting the AFC/M23 rebellion is an external conspiracy rather than a domestic uprising rooted in systemic injustice. Until pressured, Habyarimana maintained this charade, delaying critical negotiations. Tshisekedi’s refusal to engage with the AFC/M23 reveals the same pattern of deflection and denial. Habyarimana’s stubbornness only prolonged the crisis and ultimately led to his government’s downfall. Tshisekedi suffers from the same delusion. By framing the AFC/M23 rebellion as foreign aggression, he absolves himself of responsibility and avoids making the tough decisions required to address the grievances of eastern Congo’s marginalized communities. This is not leadership; it is cowardice dressed up as defiance. Abusing Luanda: blame, deflect and repeat The Luanda process, meant to be a pathway to peace, has become a stage for Tshisekedi’s political performance. For him, these talks are not about resolving the rebellion or stabilizing eastern Congo; they are about dominating the narrative and keeping his political stock high. Each round of talks ends with Tshisekedi issuing triumphant statements that obscure the absence of real progress. But the cracks in this façade are glaring. The refusal to negotiate directly with the M23—a Congolese rebellion with legitimate grievances—is emblematic of Tshisekedi’s approach: ignore the root causes of conflict, vilify the rebels as foreign invaders, and hope the world buys the lie. Corneille Nangaa, leader of the AFC/M23 coalition, has dismissed the Luanda process as a charade, pointing out that Kinshasa’s refusal to address the rebels’ concerns makes peace impossible. His coalition has created pockets of stability in areas they control, demonstrating a capacity for governance that Kinshasa has failed to match. Tshisekedi, however, under Nairobi Peace Process—prefers to lump the M23 with groups like the Mai-Mai, CODECO, and the FDLR—the latter being genocidal remnants of Rwanda’s past. These groups, ironically, are allied with Tshisekedi’s forces under the Wazalendo umbrella, a coalition of so-called “patriots” fighting in eastern Congo. The hypocrisy is staggering: while Tshisekedi demonizes the AFC/M23 as terrorists and foreigners, he collaborates with forces that have committed atrocities against Congolese civilians. This paradox is stunning: the DRC government legitimizes a criminal militia responsible for atrocities, all while demonizing a Congolese-led rebellion that has brought stability to territories under its control. In Rubaya and Masisi, areas once plagued by FDLR terror, AFC/M23 has restored order, dismantled extortion rackets, and allowed displaced populations to return home. Despite Angola’s João Lourenço’s calls for direct negotiations with AFC/M23, Tshisekedi remains intransigent, rejecting dialogue while attending summits with no intention of compromise. For Lourenço, the message is clear: stop enabling Tshisekedi’s theatrics. Peace in the DRC requires confronting uncomfortable truths, not indulging a leader whose policies are a recipe for disaster. The international community, represented by Angola’s President Lourenço, faces a stark choice: continue enabling Tshisekedi’s charade or push for real solutions that address the root causes of the DRC’s crises. But Tshisekedi is determined to keep the show going. His survival depends on it. The Luanda process, for all its pomp and ceremony, is unlikely to produce lasting peace as long as Tshisekedi remains its star. His obsession with scapegoating Rwanda has effectively paralyzed any attempt to address the grievances fueling the AFC/M23 rebellion. The Luanda negotiations, ostensibly aimed at resolving the DRC’s crises, have devolved into a stage for Tshisekedi’s grandstanding. Like a seasoned actor, he plays to the gallery, ensuring that every move enhances his political stock. His team’s immediate press releases after meetings are not reports but crafted performances, designed to frame him as the hero battling an insidious foreign enemy. *Hypnotizing the World: A Dangerous Dance* Tshisekedi’s ability to hypnotize both his domestic audience and international stakeholders like SADC is nothing short of political sorcery. By equating the AFC/M23 with groups notorious for their atrocities, Tshisekedi seeks to delegitimize their grievances while glossing over his alliances with war criminals. A masterpiece of narrative manipulation. But the international community must ask: Can Angola’s Lourenço, or anyone for that matter, solve a crisis when the mediator is enabling the illusionist-in-chief? Is the Luanda process meant to address the root causes of rebellion, or is it merely a pathway for Tshisekedi’s political survival? Tshisekedi’s strategy is not without precedent. Leaders like him have long relied on the illusion of motion—creating policies, initiatives, and dialogues that give the appearance of progress while avoiding substantive change. His reluctance to address the grievances of the AFC/M23, rooted in systemic discrimination and unfulfilled agreements, underscores his fear of making difficult political decisions. The mirage of progress: The conjurer’s final act After sabotaging the Luanda summit of December 15, 2024, one can only wonder what new tricks Tshisekedi has up his sleeve. Perhaps a grand illusion where Congo’s collapsing infrastructure is blamed on Kagame’s secret weather machine? Or a revelation that Rwanda’s invisible army is hoarding Congolese minerals under Lake Kivu? What is certain is that Tshisekedi’s act cannot last forever. Maybe, his audience, both domestic and international, will eventually tire of the same old magic show. When the smoke clears and the mirrors shatter, the reality of his governance—or lack thereof—will stand exposed. But for now, the world watches as Tshisekedi performs his most dangerous trick yet: dancing on the edge of chaos, armed with nothing but scapegoats, slogans, and sleight of hand. It’s a performance that may enthrall for a time but will ultimately leave his country with nothing but ashes. @TomNdahiro
