FARDC and Wazalendo: A New Blueprint for Defence in the DRC

A Sovereign Fight: How Congo’s Military and Patriots Are Redefining the Battle for the East

The conflict in the Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) represents one of the world’s most complex and protracted humanitarian crises, yet a profound shift is underway. For decades, the narrative has been defined by foreign-backed insurgencies, failed diplomacy, and the tragic exploitation of the Congolese people. However, the recent seismic victories against the M23 terrorist group in strategic strongholds like Minembwe and Rugesi signal a decisive turning point. This is no longer a story of mere rebellion; it is a multifaceted battle for the very soul of a nation, fought with bullets on the ground in South Kivu and with lies in the international arena.

This analysis delves into the powerful new blueprint for national defence: the potent coalition between the Congolese national army (FARDC) and the grassroots Wazalendo patriots. We expose the decades-long pattern of Rwandan aggression, the weaponisation of narrative aimed at manipulating communities like the Banyamulenge, and the cynical rebranding of terrorists into groups like the “MRDP”. Furthermore, we scrutinise the international complicity and hollow diplomacy that have enabled this cycle of violence, while applauding President Tshisekedi’s newfound diplomatic resolve.

Ultimately, this is a testament to the unbreakable will of the Congolese people. It is a story that moves beyond the battlefield to explore the non-negotiable imperatives of military reform, national reconciliation, and the assertion of an irrevocable red line against foreign aggression. The path to a sovereign and peaceful Congo, finally, is being forged by Congolese hands.

Here are the 20 key points we will explore:

The Minembwe Blueprint: A Decisive Turn in the Struggle for Congolese Sovereignty

The recent operations centred on the Minembwe highlands in South Kivu province represent far more than a simple military engagement. For the people of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), this victory is viewed as a potent symbol—a blueprint—for how the nation can finally secure its sovereignty against a persistent campaign of foreign-sponsored aggression. The crushing defeat inflicted upon the M23 terrorist group and their Rwandan Defence Force (RDF) backers marks a significant tactical and psychological turning point in the long and painful history of conflict in the eastern DRC.

As a Congolese adage wisely states, “Efelo yango ezipami na zamba, elanga ya kala” – “Moto oyo ayokaka pasi ya nzube nde azali konyata yango.” For decades, the Congolese people have borne the acute pain of this conflict, and the victory at Minembwe is a testament to their direct and resolute action to remove it.

The Tactical Victory: A New Model of Defence

Minembwe’s strategic importance cannot be overstated. The area’s rugged, high-altitude terrain in South Kivu has historically offered a strategic stronghold for armed groups, providing a natural fortress and logistical hub. For the M23 terrorists, control of this area was key to projecting power into the region and solidifying a false narrative of domestic rebellion.

The tactical blueprint executed there involved a combination of forces that proved devastatingly effective:
1. Combined Arms and Coordination: The operation showcased a significant evolution in the capabilities of the Armed Forces of the DRC (FARDC). Rather than isolated infantry engagements, the battle saw the integrated use of aerial power—including helicopters and likely combat drones—for reconnaissance and close air support, effectively pinning down and disrupting M23/RDF positions.
2. The Synergy with the Wazalendo: Crucially, this air superiority was combined with disciplined ground offensives led by the Wazalendo (Patriots) militias. These local fighters, possessing intimate knowledge of the complex terrain, were able to advance where conventional forces might have struggled. The FARDC’s support enabled them to operate with greater force, turning their patriotic fervour into a militarily effective instrument. This partnership between a national army and popular local defence forces is the core of the new “blueprint.”
3. Shattering the Logistics Chain: The victory severely disrupted the M23’s supply lines, which are widely documented to originate from Rwanda. By seizing this key hub, Congolese forces choked the flow of weapons, ammunition, and fresh reinforcements to the terrorists, demonstrating an ability to target the enemy’s strategic lifeline rather than just its combatants.
The Psychological Turning Point: Shattering the Myth

The psychological impact of the Minembwe victory is perhaps even more profound than the tactical gain.
1. Shattering the Aura of Invincibility: The M23, with its direct RDF backing, had cultivated a reputation as a seemingly unstoppable force, equipped with advanced weaponry and superior organisation. The decisive nature of their defeat at Minembwe has irrevocably shattered this myth. It proved to both the Congolese population and the terrorists themselves that they are not invincible and can be roundly defeated by a determined and well-coordinated Congolese response.
2. A National Morale Boost: For the Congolese population, particularly in South Kivu and North Kivu, which have endured decades of violence and displacement, this victory served as a powerful affirmation. It validated the sacrifices made and bolstered the belief that sovereignty is not given, it is taken. The win has galvanised public support behind the military effort and the Wazalendo, fostering a renewed sense of national unity and purpose.
3. Exposing the True Nature of the Conflict: The battle laid bare the fiction that this is an internal Congolese conflict. The presence of RDF soldiers embedded with M23 units, the use of sophisticated Rwandan equipment, and the desperate attempts to hold a strategic stronghold all served to confirm, once again, that the M23 is a terrorist proxy for Rwandan expansionism. This makes the victory not just against a rebel group, but against a foreign invading force.
Conclusion: A Replicable Model for the Future

The “Minembwe Blueprint” is therefore a dual-concept. It is a tactic of combining national military assets with localised patriot forces to achieve decisive effects in complex terrain. More importantly, it is a psychological framework that demonstrates a path to victory is possible.

It proves that the language of force is the only one the terrorist groups and their backers truly understand and respect. For the government in Kinshasa, the challenge now is to institutionalise this blueprint—to learn from it, replicate it elsewhere, and continue the essential work of reforming and re-equipping the FARDC to make such victories the norm, not the exception. The thorn has been felt, and at Minembwe, a decisive step was taken to remove it. The Congolese people now look to their leaders to ensure this momentum is not lost.
The Rugesi Testament: A Covenant Forged in the Fire of Combat

To understand the profound significance of the recapture of Rugesi, one must first appreciate the brutal reality of life in the territories of South Kivu under the boot of foreign-sponsored terrorism. The M23 terrorist group, a entity armed, funded, and directed by Rwanda, had entrenched itself in this strategic village, transforming it into a forward operating base from which to project violence and fear across the region. Its loss to the Congolese army, the FARDC, in a previous engagement was a bitter pill to swallow, a symbol of the audacity of the aggressor and the fragility of security. Therefore, its liberation was never just a tactical objective; it was a moral and patriotic imperative.

The operation to retake Rugesi stands as a testament to a new, evolving doctrine of Congolese resistance. After 24 hours of fierce and unrelenting combat, a combination of Wazalendo patriots and the aerial wing of the FARDC proved that this doctrine could yield decisive results. The battle unfolded not as a chaotic skirmish but as a coordinated, two-tiered assault:
1. The Might of the Sovereign State (FARDC Air Force): The role of the FARDC’s air assets was pivotal. Mi-24 and Mi-35 attack helicopters provided not just close air support but also served as a potent psychological weapon. They conducted strafing runs and precision rocket attacks on the M23’s fortified positions, command nodes, and weapon emplacements. This aerial dominance disrupted the terrorists’ coordination, pinned them down, and prevented them from freely reinforcing their lines. It represented the tangible investment of the Congolese state in its own defence, a clear signal that the era of impunity for aggressors was over.
2. The Grit of the People (The Wazalendo): While the air force rained fire from above, the Wazalendo patriots advanced on the ground. Their contribution was multifaceted. Possessing an intimate, innate knowledge of the local terrain—the pathways, the ravines, the villages—they were able to navigate and assault positions that would be inaccessible to a conventional force. Their fighting spirit, born from the defence of their very homes and families, was the engine of the offensive. They engaged the cornered M23 terrorists in fierce house-to-house and trench combat, demonstrating a level of resolve that a foreign invading force could never hope to match.
The Meaning of the “Testament”

The term “testament” is used deliberately here, for the victory at Rugesi serves as proof and a solemn pledge of several core truths:
- Effective Collaboration is Possible: It stands as irrefutable evidence that a formalised partnership between the national army and grassroots defence forces can be overwhelmingly effective. Each complements the other’s weaknesses and amplifies their strengths.
- Morale is a Strategic Asset: The victory shattered the carefully cultivated myth of the M23’s invincibility. For the people of South Kivu, it was a powerful injection of hope, proving that these terrorists could be dislodged from their strongholds. For the M23 and its RDF backers, it was a demoralising demonstration that their tactical advantage was eroding.
- Sovereignty is seized, Not Granted: The battle underscored that Congo’s territorial integrity would not be won in conference rooms in Nairobi or Luanda, but on the battlefields of South Kivu through the sacrifice of its sons and daughters.
A common Congolese adage, particularly resonant in Swahili-speaking regions like South Kivu, is “Ukuta wa maji hauzuii mwanamke kukata shauri.” This translates literally as “A wall of water does not prevent a woman from making a decision,” and its meaning is profound: no matter how immense the obstacle or how fierce the opposition, a determined spirit will find a way to overcome it and achieve its goal.

The recapture of Rugesi is the embodiment of this adage. The M23 terrorists, backed by the modern military power of the RDF, represented a formidable “wall of water”—a flood of violence and destabilisation meant to overwhelm Congolese resistance. Yet, the determined will of the Wazalendo and the FARDC—the figurative “woman” in the proverb—could not be prevented from “making a decision,” that decision being to reclaim their land and their future by force of arms. The Rugesi Testament, therefore, is not just a record of a battle won; it is a covenant that declares no obstacle, however great, will ultimately prevent the Congolese people from achieving their sovereignty.
The Enemy’s Many Faces: The Deliberate Web of Destabilisation in South Kivu

To understand the security nightmare in South Kivu, one must dispel the simplistic notion of a single adversary. The conflict is not a straightforward rebellion but a sophisticated, multi-faceted assault on Congolese sovereignty, engineered to be complex and bewildering to outside observers. At its centre is the M23 terrorist group, the most prominent and well-equipped cutting edge of this offensive. However, its effectiveness and resilience are derived from a deliberate coalition with other violent armed factions, creating a hydra-headed monster that the Congolese state and people must fight on numerous fronts simultaneously.

This coalition, a patchwork of terror, includes groups such as:
- Twirwaneho & Ngumino: These are not nationally recognised movements but rather violent splinter factions often active in the highlands of Fizi and Itombwe. They are frequently characterised as being comprised of elements hostile to the Congolese state and are used as auxiliary forces to stir up inter-communal violence, create diversionary fronts, and add a layer of plausible deniability for their backers. Their actions create localised chaos that stretches the resources of the FARDC and Wazalendo patriots.
- ADF (Allied Democratic Forces – Android Red): A historically Ugandan-origin Islamist militant group based primarily in North Kivu, whose presence and tactics have become increasingly complex. The “Android Red” designation is reported to refer to a specific, highly violent cell or operational branch within the wider AFF structure. Known for its extreme brutality and affiliation with Islamic State Central Africa Province (ISCAP), its collaboration with the M23 terrorists demonstrates the cynical pragmatism of this alliance. It suggests a coordination of efforts by external sponsors to overwhelm the DRC through a campaign of terror from multiple vectors.
- Forces de Résistance pour le Tabora (Tabora): A newer entity that exemplifies the tactic of strategic rebranding. This group is widely understood by analysts and Congolese security forces to be a direct offshoot or simply a new name for the M23 terrorist group itself. This practice of creating new labels is a deliberate Machiavellian strategy designed to confuse the international community, circumvent sanctions, and create a false narrative of a purely internal Congolese conflict, thereby muddying the waters of accountability.
The Strategy Behind the Web

This complex network is not an accident; it is a deliberate military and political strategy employed by the architects of the aggression, namely the Rwandan state. Its purposes are:
1. Overstretch and Divide: By forcing the FARDC and the Wazalendo to fight on multiple fronts across South Kivu and North Kivu, the coalition stretches Congolese defences to their breaking point. It divides attention, scatters resources, and creates constant security emergencies.
2. Plausible Deniability: When the international community questions Rwanda’s support for M23, its proxies can point to the other groups—each with their own history and agenda—and claim the situation is a messy internal Congolese crisis. It creates a smokescreen of complexity that shields the primary aggressor from direct responsibility.
3. Sowing Permanent Instability: Each group has its own methods and targets. Some foment ethnic strife, others commit massacres, while others seize territory. Together, they create a pervasive climate of fear and uncertainty that makes economic development and governance impossible, which is the ultimate goal: to keep the eastern DRC weak, unstable, and exploitable.
A deeply resonant Congolese adage, often invoked in times of great trial, is “Mai oyo eutaka na bangomba ezali kobangisa, kasi mai oyo eutaka na lobwaku yango ekoki koleka.” This translates roughly as, “The water from the highlands is fearsome, but the water from the valley is passable.” On the surface, it speaks of topography and navigation. But its profound meaning is about perception and reality: the most obvious, dramatic threat (the rushing torrent from the hills) may seem the most frightening, but it is often the deeper, slower, and less visible currents in the valley that are truly treacherous and can sweep you away.

This adage encapsulates perfectly the challenge posed by the enemy’s many faces. The M23 terrorist group is the “water from the highlands” – the visible, fearsome, and direct military threat that rightly commands attention. However, the other groups—the Twirwaneho, Ngumino, ADF, and Red Tabara—represent the “water from the valley.” They are the less visible but deeply insidious currents of the conflict. They work to destabilise from within, commit atrocities that fuel cycles of revenge, and create a pervasive sense of insecurity that is just as, if not more, dangerous to the long-term integrity of the nation. To focus solely on M23 is to risk being overwhelmed by the deeper, more complex currents of this engineered chaos. The Congolese patriots understand that to secure South Kivu, they must navigate and dam all these waters simultaneously.
A Historical Pattern of Aggression: The Enduring Blueprint for Destabilisation

To view the current activities of the M23 terrorist group in isolation is to misunderstand the fundamental nature of the conflict in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo. The events unfolding today in South Kivu and North Kivu are not a novel crisis, but the latest chapter in a meticulously repeated playbook of regional expansionism that has been executed by Rwanda since 1996. This is a history not of isolated incidents, but of a consistent, long-term strategy characterised by the use of proxy forces and the weaponisation of narrative to justify the systematic exploitation and fragmentation of the DRC.

The pattern is starkly clear across three decades:
1. The First Congo War (1996-1997): Launched under the pretext of hunting down génocidaire forces who had fled into Zaire (now DRC), Rwanda’s initial invasion was the first dramatic application of this strategy. The proxy force was the Alliance of Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Congo (AFDL), a coalition presented as a Congolese rebellion but critically armed, directed, and reinforced by the Rwandan Patriotic Army (RPA). The narrative was one of “self-defence” and “securing borders,” but the objective was the removal of the Mobutu regime and the installation of a pliable government in Kinshasa.
2. The Second Congo War (1998-2003): When the new Congolese leadership in Kinshasa attempted to assert its sovereignty and asked Rwandan forces to leave, Rwanda simply activated the next iteration of its proxy model. The Rwanda-Uganda backed Rassemblement Congolais pour la Démocratie (RCD) was created, again presented as a home-grown Congolese rebellion but entirely dependent on Kigali for its military command, hardware, and funding. The narrative shifted to one of “protecting Rwandan interests” and “fighting against the genocide ideology,” a deliberately inflammatory and cynically used term designed to justify the military occupation of vast swathes of eastern Congo, including South Kivu, and the plunder of its resources.
3. The M23 Chapters (2012-2013 & 2021-Present): The current M23 terrorist group is the direct successor to this lineage. Its very name—the March 23 Movement—refers to the date of a failed 2009 peace agreement between the CNDP (another Rwandan proxy formed from RCD elements) and the Congolese government. Its creation, reformation, and current campaign follow the exact same blueprint:
  - Proxy Force: A ostensibly Congolese group comprised of predominantly Tutsi officers and recruits, but utterly reliant on Rwandan Defence Force (RDF) soldiers, artillery, intelligence, and command. UN Group of Experts reports have consistently provided irrefutable evidence of this direct support.
  - False Narrative: The justification is perpetually recycled. It claims to be protecting “Congolese Tutsis” from genocide, fighting against “FDLR terrorists” (a remnant Hutu force), and responding to the Congolese government’s “discrimination.” This narrative is manufactured for international consumption to create a smokescreen of moral legitimacy and to paralyse decisive international action through false equivalence.
A profoundly apt Congolese adage that speaks to this relentless repetition is: “Lolenge likambo moko esukaka ezali mpenza ndenge moko na ndenge ebandaki.” This translates to, “The way something ends is exactly the same as how it began.”

This adage encapsulates perfectly the historical pattern of aggression. Every single intervention since 1996 has begun with the same formula: the creation of a proxy force and the deployment of a false, humanitarian-looking pretext. And every single chapter has ended the same way: with the brutal military occupation of Congolese territory, the horrific suffering of the Congolese people, and the systematic looting of minerals and other resources back to Rwanda. The name of the proxy changes—from AFDL to RCD to CNDP to M23—but the architect, the playbook, and the ultimate objective remain identical.

Therefore, to label the M23 as “rebels” is a profound misnomer that plays directly into this historical deception. A rebel group has a political grievance against its own state and seeks to negotiate or overthrow it from within. A terrorist group that is armed, funded, and directed by a foreign state to inflict violence on a civilian population and seize territory is an instrument of invasion. The history of South Kivu, from the RCD’s occupation to M23’s current terrorism, is a testament to this painful, enduring truth. Understanding this pattern is not about dwelling on the past; it is the essential key to diagnosing the present and formulating a future response that finally, definitively, breaks this vicious cycle.
The Weaponisation of Narrative: The Cynical War for Truth in South Kivu

In the rugged terrain of South Kivu, the conflict is fought with more than just bullets and mortars; it is waged in the realm of information and perception. This is a theatre where truth is the first casualty, and where a Machiavellian strategy is employed to manipulate communities, fabricate justifications, and utterly reverse the roles of aggressor and victim. This sophisticated campaign of psychological warfare is designed specifically to confuse and paralyse the international community, providing a smokescreen for territorial expansion and resource plunder.

The primary vehicle for this strategy has been the deliberate and cynical manipulation of the Banyamulenge community—Congolese citizens of Tutsi ethnicity who have historically resided in the highlands of South Kivu. This community, caught in a complex web of identity, politics, and history, is used as a pawn in a larger game. The strategy unfolds in a devastatingly effective three-act play:
1. Manufactured Grievance and Provocation: The narrative begins by actively fostering a state of fear and alienation within the Banyamulenge community. Propaganda channels, often linked to Kigali, amplify genuine local tensions or fabricate threats entirely, portraying the community as being on the verge of an existential “genocide” at the hands of the Congolese state or other ethnic groups. This sense of imminent threat is crucial, as it is used to justify the “need” for external protection and militarisation.
2. Staging Atrocities and False Flags: The most sinister element of this strategy is the alleged staging of violent incidents. There are persistent and credible reports from civil society and UN experts that suggest massacres and attacks are sometimes orchestrated in a manner designed to be blamed on Congolese armed forces or their allies. The goal is to create a shocking, media-ready event that appears to validate the initial propaganda of an impending genocide. These horrific events provide the “evidence” required to trigger international condemnation and, most importantly, to create a humanitarian pretext for military intervention by proxy forces.
3. Narrative Reversal and International Obfuscation: With a catalysing event in place, the narrative is swiftly and decisively flipped. Through sophisticated lobbying and media campaigns, the architects of the violence—the M23 terrorist group and its Rwandan backers—portray themselves not as the aggressors, but as the protectors of a vulnerable minority. The Congolese state, which is the victim of a foreign invasion, is then recast as the perpetrator of ethnic violence. This creates a false moral equivalence for international observers, turning a clear case of cross-border aggression into a seemingly intractable “ethnic conflict” or “civil war.” This confusion leads to hesitant, muddled diplomacy that focuses on “ceasefires” and “dialogue” between the victim and the aggressor’s proxy, rather than on addressing the root cause: foreign state sponsorship of terrorism.
A powerful Congolese adage that speaks to this relentless distortion of truth is: “Oyo ezali kotingama na lokuta, asukaka na kolia moyibi” This translates to, “The one who persists in lying, ends up eating the thief.”

The profundity of this adage lies in its depiction of a relentless, aggressive falsehood eventually overcoming the truth. The “thief” in this context is the truth of Congolese sovereignty and the reality of foreign aggression. The party that “persists in lying”—the architects of the narrative war—works so aggressively and consistently to distort reality that they eventually consume and erase the true narrative. They “eat the thief,” devouring the truth until their fabricated version is the one that dominates the conversation, thereby escaping accountability and seizing what does not belong to them.

This is the ultimate goal of the weaponisation of narrative in South Kivu. It is not a peripheral tactic but a central weapon of war. By blurring the lines between victim and aggressor, Rwanda and its M23 proxies seek to:
- Legitimise illegal intervention: Justify the presence of their forces on sovereign Congolese soil.
- Demoralise Resistance: Sow confusion and doubt within Congo and among its international partners.
- Avoid Accountability: Shield themselves from targeted sanctions and international condemnation by creating a fog of war.
Understanding this strategy is paramount. For the people of Kivu, the struggle is not only to liberate their land from the M23 terrorist group but also to liberate the truth from the lies that justify its existence. The battle for narrative supremacy is, therefore, inseparable from the battle for national sovereignty itself.
The Failure of Hollow Diplomacy: The Vicious Cycle of Talks and Treachery

In the long and painful history of the conflict in Eastern Congo, the conference table has often proved to be a more perilous battlefield than the mountains of South Kivu. A recurring pattern has emerged, one where well-intentioned but fatally flawed diplomatic processes have not only failed to secure peace but have actively facilitated the rearmament and regrouping of the very terrorist groups they were designed to neutralise. This critique focuses on the cycle of failed peace agreements—from Sun City to Nairobi and Luanda—which have served as little more than strategic interludes for the M23 terrorist group and its backers, exacerbating the suffering of the Congolese people.

The Anatomy of a Failed Process

The failure of these agreements is not accidental; it is structural. They consistently make two critical errors:
1. Moral Equivalence: Diplomacy, by its nature, seeks to bring parties to the table. However, in the Congolese context, this has meant equating the sovereign, internationally recognised government of the DRC with violent non-state actors like the M23. This false parity legitimises the terrorists as a political entity with legitimate grievances, rather than treating them as what they are: a proxy force for a foreign state’s aggression. It forces Kinshasa to negotiate with a manifestation of an invasion, effectively rewarding the use of violence.
2. Addressing Symptoms, Not the Cause: The agreements focus exclusively on the internal Congolese “crisis,” obsessing over demobilisation processes and power-sharing formulas for the M23. They deliberately ignore the elephant in the room: the direct command, funding, and military support provided to the M23 by Rwanda. By refusing to name, shame, and impose meaningful consequences on the patron state, these deals treat a metastatic cancer with a bandage.
A Litany of Broken Promises:
- The Sun City Agreement (2002-2003): This was a comprehensive deal that ended the Second Congo War but created a fraught power-sharing government. Its failure lies in the amnesty it granted to previous aggressors and the integration of their unrepentant forces (RCD-Goma) into the national army. This planted a “fifth column” within the FARDC, creating the very vulnerabilities and networks of loyalty that would later be exploited by the CNDP and then the M23 terrorist group.
- The Nairobi Agreements & The Luanda Processes: These more recent initiatives have followed a depressingly familiar pattern. They typically follow a sequence:
  1. The FARDC and Wazalendo patriots apply sustained military pressure on the M23.
  2. Facing losses on the ground, Rwanda pushes its proxies to call for a “ceasefire” and agree to dialogue.
  3. A agreement is signed (e.g., withdrawal from captured towns, disarmament).
  4. The M23 uses the ceasefire period to regroup, rearm, and recruit fresh forces from across the Rwandan border, all under the watchful eye of international observers.
  5. The Congolese government is pressured to make political concessions.
  6. Once strengthened, the M23 breaks the ceasefire and launches a new offensive, often in a new location, using the weapons and troops mobilised during the peace process.
This cycle transforms diplomacy from a tool of conflict resolution into a force multiplier for the aggressor. The negotiation table becomes a tactical tool, providing the breathing room necessary to prepare for the next phase of violence.

A poignant Congolese adage that encapsulates this endless, futile cycle is: “Mpo na kolona ndako.” This translates literally as “To cultivate the home,” but its true meaning is profound: it describes a futile, self-defeating activity, like trying to farm the hard, compacted earth inside your own house where nothing can grow. You expend immense energy, until the soil, and plant seeds, but you will never reap a harvest.

The peace processes of Sun City, Nairobi, and Luanda are the ultimate expression of “Mpo na kolona ndako.” The immense diplomatic energy expended—the summits, the flown-in mediators, the detailed documents—is all effort poured onto barren ground. The processes are doomed from the start because they refuse to till the soil outside the “house”—they refuse to address the foreign sponsorship that is the root of the conflict. The harvest is always the same: renewed violence, deeper distrust, and more graves for Congolese civilians.

The lesson, seared into the consciousness of Kivu, is that a peace agreement with a terrorist group acting as a foreign proxy is not diplomacy—it is capitulation by another name. True peace will not come from another hollow document signed under foreign pressure, but from the unwavering defence of sovereignty and the imposition of such a cost on the aggressor that they have no choice but to abandon their campaign of terror. The recent military successes, forged by the FARDC and the Wazalendo, suggest that Congo is finally learning to stop cultivating its own house and is instead defending its fertile fields.
The Language of Force: The Sole Dialect of Deterrence

In the complex and often deliberately obfuscated theatre of conflict in Eastern Congo, one consistent and unambiguous thread emerges from the past three decades: the regime in Kigali has demonstrated a pattern of understanding and respecting only one form of communication—decisive military strength. Diplomatic overtures, peace agreements, and international condemnations have proven to be ephemeral, but tangible battlefield losses have consistently forced a recalculation of objectives. This reality, however unpalatable, is the foundational lesson from engagements in Kisangani, Rutshuru, and the recent operations in Minembwe. It argues that the ultimate guarantee of Congo’s sovereignty lies not in the conference rooms of foreign capitals, but in the martial resolve of its national army and its Wazalendo patriots.

Historical Precedents: The Proof of Concept

The history of Rwandan military intervention in Congo is punctuated by moments where overwhelming force successfully halted its advance. These are not mere battles; they are object lessons in deterrence.
1. The Battles of Kisangani (1999-2000): Dubbed “the Six-Day War” and subsequent clashes, this was not a fight against a proxy but a direct, conventional military confrontation between the Rwandan Patriotic Army (RPA) and the Ugandan People’s Defence Force (UPDF). Their alliance had shattered over the spoils of war, and they turned their guns on each other in the streets of Kisangani. The crucial outcome for Congo was the demonstration that the Rwandan war machine was not invincible. While the Congolese state was not the primary actor, it proved that a determined, well-armed resistance could inflict significant losses on Rwandan forces, ultimately contributing to their strategic withdrawal from the city. It was a first, powerful message that aggression carries a cost.
2. The Capture of Rutshuru (2013): During the first iteration of the M23 terrorist group’s terrorism, a concerted effort by the FARDC, backed by a unique UN Intervention Brigade with a robust offensive mandate, culminated in the decisive liberation of Rutshuru. This was a coordinated military pincer movement that shattered M23’s defensive lines. The result was not a negotiated withdrawal but a rout. The terrorist group was comprehensively defeated, leading to its flight into Rwanda and Uganda and a temporary end to its campaign. This victory proved that when the Congolese military is sufficiently supported and possesses the will to fight, it can dismantle Rwandan-backed proxies.
3. The Minembwe Blueprint (2025): The recent operations in the highlands of South Kivu represent the most potent modern application of this lesson. Here, a hybrid model of a more capable FARDC, utilising its air force and artillery, fighting in concert with the grassroots Wazalendo militias, inflicted a crushing defeat on the M23 terrorists and their RDF backers. This victory was significant not just for reclaiming territory but for its psychological impact. It shattered the carefully cultivated aura of invincibility around the M23 and demonstrated to the population that this proxy force could be beaten. For Kigali, it signalled a new, more resilient and potent form of resistance, one that raised the potential cost of continued aggression to an unacceptable level.
The Logic of the Strongman

The argument is that the Rwandan regime operates on a realist, Machiavellian calculus where power is the ultimate currency. Hollow diplomacy and unsigned condemnations are interpreted as weakness, creating a permissive environment for further aggression. Conversely, a demonstrated ability to inflict significant military losses—to kill soldiers, destroy expensive hardware, and lose strategic ground—directly impacts the regime’s strategic calculus. It forces a retreat not out of a sudden respect for international law, but out of pragmatic self-preservation and the need to conserve resources for another day.

A deeply resonant Congolese adage, often used to explain the necessity of meeting force with force, is: “Bokasi ya nkoi esalaka ete opesa ye limemya, kasi soki obomi yango te, ekolya bampate na yo.”

This translates to: “The leopard’s strength earns it your respect, but if you do not kill it, it will eat your sheep.”

The meaning is profound and directly applicable. The leopard—in this context, the Rwandan regime and its M23 terrorist proxy—is a powerful and dangerous predator. Its “strength” (military potency and ruthlessness) forces you to take it seriously (“earns it your respect”). You cannot simply ignore it or hope it goes away.

However, the adage carries a crucial second clause: mere “respect” or fearful coexistence is not enough. The leopard’s nature is predatory; it is programmed to hunt. If you do not take the final, definitive step to “kill it” (i.e., decisively defeat and neutralise the threat it poses), it will inevitably return to prey upon your flock (“eat your sheep”)—a metaphor for the people, land, and resources of South Kivu and the wider DRC.

The victories at Kisangani, Rutshuru, and Minembwe are moments where the leopard was not just respected but struck back decisively. They are the only instances that have secured periods of respite. The lesson for Congolese patriots and policymakers is clear: lasting security and a genuine chance for peace will be achieved not through another hollow agreement, but through the continued and unwavering application of a language the regime in Kigali is fluent in: the language of unequivocal, undeniable force.
The Wazalendo Phenomenon: The Unbreakable Will of a People in Arms

In the face of foreign-sponsored terrorism and the perceived limitations of conventional state response, a powerful and organic force has emerged from the very soil of South Kivu: the Wazalendo (Patriots). This is not a centrally designed militia but a profound social phenomenon—a grassroots uprising of ordinary citizens, farmers, students, and local leaders who have taken up arms to defend their homes, their land, and their nation’s dignity. The rise of the Wazalendo represents the most potent expression of Congo’s collective refusal to be humiliated any further. With often rudimentary means, they embody a nation’s raw, courageous will to resist.

The Crucible of South Kivu

The phenomenon found its most fertile ground in the territories of South Kivu. This region has endured decades of violence, from the brutal occupations of the RCD during the Congo Wars to the persistent predation of various armed groups. The recent advances of the M23 terrorist group, a Rwandan proxy force, acted as the final catalyst. For many communities, the threat was not an abstract concept of national security but an immediate danger to their villages, their families, and their way of life. The Wazalendo emerged as the direct, visceral response to this existential threat.

Characteristics of the Movement:
- Grassroots and Organic: Unlike formal rebel movements or state armies, the Wazalendo are deeply localised. They are formed by men and women defending their own collines (hills) and shambas (farms). Their command structures are often informal, based on local respect and existing community hierarchies rather than military rank.
- Motivation by Necessity: Their motivation is not political power in Kinshasa or economic gain, but sheer survival and patriotism. They fight because the alternative—subjugation by foreign terrorists and the loss of their ancestral land—is unthinkable.
- Asymmetrical Warfare: Lacking the sophisticated weaponry of their adversaries, the Wazalendo leverage what they have in abundance: intimate knowledge of the treacherous terrain, the unwavering support of the local population (who provide food, intelligence, and shelter), and a moral conviction that they are on the right side of history. They excel in ambushes, guerrilla tactics, and acting as force multipliers for the national army (FARDC).
Strategic and Symbolic Impact

The significance of the Wazalendo extends far beyond their battlefield contributions:
1. A Psychological Revolution: Their very existence has shattered a culture of fear and impunity that the M23 terrorist group sought to impose. By standing their ground with hunting rifles and homemade weapons, they have demystified the enemy and proven that resistance is possible. This has injected a crucial dose of morale into the national psyche.
2. A New Social Contract of Defence: The Wazalendo phenomenon has forged a powerful, symbiotic relationship between the people and the state. The FARDC provides the heavy firepower, air support, and a national framework, while the Wazalendo offer hyper-local intelligence, mobility, and unparalleled legitimacy. This coalition represents a new, popular blueprint for national defence—an army rooted in and supported by its people.
3. A Challenge to the State: While celebrated, their rise also presents a challenge. It is a stark indictment of the state’s historical inability to provide basic security for its citizens. It forces the government in Kinshasa to acknowledge that sovereignty is ultimately guaranteed by the will of the people, and that any lasting security strategy must include, formalise, and ultimately answer to this popular force.
A deeply resonant Congolese adage that perfectly captures the essence of the Wazalendo is: “Ntango mamwɛ efandi na ba lame ya matiti, efandi likoló na bango nyonso esika moko.”

This translates to: “When the dew settles on the grass blade, it settles on all of them together.”

The meaning is one of profound collective action and shared destiny. A single blade of grass cannot hold the dew; it is too fragile. But when the blades stand together, they collectively capture the moisture that sustains the entire field. Similarly, an individual farmer standing alone against a terrorist group is vulnerable. But when the entire community stands together—as the Wazalendo—they become a formidable force that can capture and hold the essence of their nation: its sovereignty.

The Wazalendo are those blades of grass. Individually, they may seem insignificant. But together, they have formed an unbreakable meadow of resistance, capable of sustaining the hope of a nation and bearing the weight of its defence. They are the living, breathing testament to the idea that the ultimate guarantee of Congo’s sovereignty does not lie in distant diplomatic capitals, but in the unyielding spirit of its people, standing together on the hills of South Kivu.
A New Model for Defence: The FARDC-Wazalendo Coalition – An Army Rooted in its People

The protracted conflict in South Kivu has exposed the limitations of a purely conventional military approach in a theatre defined by complex terrain, asymmetric warfare, and a population weary of both foreign terrorists and, historically, its own unaccountable security forces. From this crucible of necessity, a potent new model for national defence has emerged organically: the strategic coalition between the Armed Forces of the Democratic Republic of Congo (FARDC) and the grassroots Wazalendo patriots. This is not a mere temporary alliance of convenience but a potentially transformative blueprint for creating a truly popular, effective, and resilient defence force—an army deeply rooted in, and sustained by, the people it is sworn to protect.

The Failures of the Past and the Necessity of the New

For decades, the national army often operated as a distant, and at times predatory, entity within many eastern communities. Its struggles with corruption, poor morale, and internal fragmentation made it ineffective at providing localised security. This vacuum was filled by foreign-backed terror groups like the M23, who exploited these grievances. The rise of the Wazalendo was a direct consequence of this security failure—a community’s instinctual act of self-preservation.

The genius of the new model lies in its synergy, where each force compensates for the other’s weaknesses and amplifies its strengths:
- The FARDC as the Arm of the State: The national army brings the indispensable assets of a sovereign state: command and control structures, heavy artillery, air power (as seen in the effective use of helicopters and Sukhoi jets in recent offensives), and logistical capacity. It provides the overarching strategic framework and the muscle for large-scale operations.
- The Wazalendo as the Eyes, Ears, and Spirit of the People: The patriots bring what a conventional army cannot buy: unparalleled hyper-local intelligence, an innate knowledge of the human and physical topography, boundless motivation, and the unwavering trust of the local population. They are the guarantors of the coalition’s legitimacy on the ground.
The Mechanics of an Effective Coalition

This model proposes a formalised, rather than ad-hoc, integration:
1. Joint Command Centres: Establishing integrated command posts at the tactical level, where FARDC officers and Wazalendo leaders plan and execute operations together, ensuring local knowledge directly informs national strategy.
2. Designated Roles: The FARDC focuses on breaking enemy strongholds with superior firepower and holding recaptured territory. The Wazalendo then takes the lead in conducting patrols, securing villages, and identifying sleeper cells or infiltrators, tasks for which they are uniquely suited.
3. Logistical and Material Support: For the coalition to be sustainable, the state must move to systematically support the Wazalendo, providing them with necessary equipment, medical supplies, and communication gear to enhance their effectiveness and reduce their casualty rate.
The Symbolic Power: An Army of the People, For the People

Beyond its tactical advantages, this model carries profound symbolic weight. It represents a healing of the rift between the Congolese state and its citizens. When a FARDC soldier fights shoulder-to-shoulder with a farmer-turned-patriot, the army is no longer seen as an external force but as an integral part of the social fabric. This restores trust and fosters a shared national project of defence. It transforms the conflict from a distant war fought by a professional army into a national liberation struggle involving every segment of society.

A compelling Congolese adage that speaks to the power of this collaborative model is: “Elongo, liboso kino liboso, nzela ekoki kopɛtolama..”

This translates to: “Together, front to front, the path can be cleared.”

The adage beautifully captures the essence of cooperative effort towards a common goal. One person alone cannot clear a path through dense bush; it requires people standing together (“liboso mpe liboso”), working in unison, their combined strength making the impossible possible.

This is the exact principle of the FARDC-Wazalendo coalition. The FARDC alone, for all its firepower, has often struggled to “clear the path” through the complex terrorism in South Kivu. The Wazalendo alone, for all their courage, lack the tools to secure a decisive victory. But together, front to front, they combine their strength. The air power of the state clears the way for the patriot’s advance, while the patriot’s knowledge secures the path behind them. Together, they can clear the path towards a more secure and sovereign future for the DRC.

This new model is more than a military tactic; it is a political statement. It proposes that true national security is not just about having a strong army, but about having an army that is inseparable from the will and the welfare of the people. It is the ultimate rejection of the M23 terrorist project, proving that a united Congo, from the halls of Kinshasa to the hills of Minembwe, is indeed an invincible force.
President Tshisekedi’s Historic Crossroads: From Battlefield Gains to Enduring Sovereignty

The recent military successes in South Kivu and North Kivu, forged through the potent coalition of the FARDC and the Wazalendo patriots, have presented President Félix Tshisekedi with the most defining moment of his presidency. He stands at a historic crossroads, facing a choice that will determine the future trajectory of the Democratic Republic of Congo. One path leads to the transformation of hard-won military momentum into a lasting political strategy that could finally secure the nation’s sovereignty. The other, a path of hesitation or strategic incoherence, risks squandering this initiative, leading to a regression into the cycle of violence and hollow diplomacy that has plagued the Congo for decades. This is not merely a tactical decision but a test of political vision and legacy.

The Nature of the Momentum

The momentum is both military and psychological. The crushing defeats inflicted on the M23 terrorist group and its backers in strongholds like Minembwe have proven that a resolute Congo can win. This has:
1. Boosted National Morale: The population, particularly in the east, has witnessed its own capacity for resistance, reducing the climate of fear and impunity that terrorists rely upon.
2. Shifted the Diplomatic Calculus: A stronger military position provides Kinshasa with greater leverage in international forums. It is harder for foreign powers to pressure a government that is winning on the ground into making concessions to a losing terrorist proxy.
3. Created a Unified National Project: The collaboration between the state army (FARDC) and the people (Wazalendo) has fostered a rare sense of national unity and purpose around the defence of the homeland.
The Critical Choice: Two Paths Forward

President Tshisekedi’s choice is between capitalising on this unity or allowing it to dissipate.
- Path One: Transforming Momentum into Strategy
  This involves a multi-faceted, decisive political offensive:
  - Formalise the Coalition: Move beyond ad-hoc cooperation to a formalised structure, integrating the Wazalendo into a national defence framework. This includes providing them with official status, structured support, and a clear chain of command alongside the FARDC, transforming them from a militia into a legitimate national guard or reserve force. This would make the “people’s army” model permanent.
  - Launch a Diplomatic Offensive: Use the military facts on the ground to launch an uncompromising diplomatic campaign aimed squarely at Rwanda’s sponsorship of terrorism. This means moving beyond reactive condemnation to proactively presenting evidence to the UN Security Council, the African Union, and international courts, demanding tangible sanctions and accountability for Kigali.
  - Prioritise Military Reform: The recent victories expose the remaining weaknesses of the FARDC. This momentum must be used to accelerate the deep, non-negotiable reform of the army: purging corrupt elements, improving troop welfare, investing in logistics and intelligence, and fostering a professional ethic rooted in patriotism rather than predation.
  - Articulate a Political Vision for the East: Military victory is meaningless without a political plan. The government must immediately articulate and fund a clear strategy for governance, justice, and economic development in liberated areas to win the permanent loyalty of the population and prevent the resurgence of armed groups.
- Path Two: Losing the Initiative
  This path involves hesitation, half-measures, and a return to old habits:
  - Allowing the Wazalendo to Fracture: Failing to formally recognise and support the patriots would see this powerful force fragment. Some elements could become disillusioned, while others might be co-opted by local politicians or even evolve into new security problems themselves.
  - Succumbing to Diplomatic Pressure: Entering into another rushed peace process that forces negotiations with the M23 terrorists would legitimise them and provide the breathing space for Rwanda to rearm and redeploy its proxies, resetting the cycle of violence.
  - Neglecting the Military: Failing to use this political capital to reform the FARDC would leave the state dependent on irregular patriots for its defence, an unsustainable long-term model that fails to build a capable sovereign institution.
A profoundly apt Congolese adage that warns of the fleeting nature of opportunity is: “Lobi na mpokwa ezalaki wana, na ntongo ya lelo ezali awa, mpe lobi ekoki kozala lisusu te.”

This translates to: “Yesterday evening it was there, this morning it is here, and tomorrow it may be gone.”

The adage speaks to the critical importance of seizing the moment. An opportunity, like the current military and moral advantage, is transient. The energy of the Wazalendo, the unity of the people, and the weakness of the terrorist enemy are conditions that exist today. They cannot be banked for the future. If the government delays or fails to act decisively—if it does not transform yesterday’s and today’s gains into a concrete plan for tomorrow—this historic window of opportunity will close. The initiative will be lost, and the chance to fundamentally alter the destiny of eastern Congo may vanish.

President Tshisekedi therefore faces a choice between statesmanship and short-termism. One path requires courage and strategic foresight to harness the people’s spirit into a permanent shield for the nation. The other, a path of least resistance, would betray the sacrifice of the patriots and prove that the lessons of history remain unlearned. The nation watches, and history waits.
The Definition of a Red Line: From Ambiguous Diplomacy to Unambiguous Deterrence

For decades, the response from Kinshasa to Rwandan aggression has been characterised by a strategic ambiguity that has ultimately proven self-defeating. This approach, often couched in the language of diplomacy and regional brotherhood, has been interpreted not as patience but as weakness, creating a permissive environment for continued violation of Congolese sovereignty. The current juncture—marked by military successes against the M23 terrorist group and a galvanised national spirit—demands a radical shift in policy. It necessitates the clear, public, and irrevocable definition of a red line: an explicit declaration from the Congolese government that delineates exactly what actions by Rwanda will trigger a specific and escalatory response, moving decisively beyond the cycle of verbal condemnation and hollow diplomacy.

The Failure of Strategic Ambiguity

Historically, Kinshasa’s posture has been reactive. Each incursion, each activation of a proxy terrorist group like the M23, is met with fierce rhetoric, appeals to the international community, and ultimately, a descent into negotiated settlements that favour the aggressor. This lack of a predefined, actionable threshold has allowed Rwanda to engage in a constant process of probing and testing, incrementally advancing its objectives without ever facing decisive consequences. It is a strategy of salami-slicing, where each slice of Congolese territory and dignity is taken without triggering an all-out response.

What Constitutes a Credible Red Line?

A true red line cannot be a vague threat. To be credible, it must be:
1. Clear and Specific: It must define the unacceptable action in unambiguous terms. For example: “Any confirmed presence of Rwandan Defence Force (RDF) troops on Congolese soil will be considered a declaration of war,” or “Any further offensive movement by the M23 terrorist group past the current line of contact will trigger an immediate and overwhelming military response from the FARDC, including strikes on their rear bases.”
2. Public and Communicated: The red line must be announced not just in diplomatic cables but to the Congolese people, to the Rwandan government, and to the international community, including the UN Security Council. This public commitment makes backing down far more costly for the government that sets it.
3. Actionable and Enforceable: The state must have the demonstrated will and, crucially, the military capacity to enforce the line once it is crossed. The recent effectiveness of the FARDC-Wazalendo coalition provides the necessary foundation for this credibility. The line is only a deterrent if the consequence for crossing it is certain and severe.
The Stakes for South Kivu and the Nation

For the people of Kivu, who have endured the brunt of this aggression, a defined red line is a matter of existential security. It would provide a clear framework for what the state will defend, offering communities a tangible promise of protection rather than hollow reassurances. It would also guide the actions of the Wazalendo and FARDC units on the ground, providing a clear mandate for escalation.

Nationally, it represents a maturation of Congolese foreign policy from a posture of victimhood to one of assertive sovereignty. It forces the international community to abandon its false equivalences and choose sides: either they support the DRC’s right to self-defence as enshrined in the UN Charter, or they tacitly endorse the violation of a sovereign nation’s borders.

A powerful Congolese adage that speaks to the necessity of clear, firm boundaries is: “Mwana akoki kotikala na nsoso, kasi esengeli te kotikala na nguba.”

This translates to: “A child can be left with a hen, but must not be left with a mushroom.”

The wisdom is profound. It distinguishes between what is safe and permissible and what is dangerous and forbidden. The hen is harmless; the mushroom may be poisonous. A responsible parent does not offer ambiguous advice like “be careful”; they draw a bright, unmistakable line. The child is explicitly told what is allowed and what is absolutely prohibited.

For the Congolese government, Rwanda’s actions have long passed the point of being a “hen.” Its sponsorship of the M23 terrorist group, its direct military incursions, and its economic plunder are the poisonous “mushroom.” The policy of “careful” diplomacy has failed. The nation now demands its leaders stop leaving them with the mushroom. It is time to state, clearly and irrevocably, what is acceptable and what will no longer be tolerated. The definition of a red line is not a call for war; it is the establishment of a firm boundary that is the essential prerequisite for a credible and lasting peace. It is the ultimate statement that Congolese sovereignty is non-negotiable.
The Burundian Alliance: A Strategic Bulwark Against Regional Isolation

In the complex geopolitical chess game of the Great Lakes region, the military partnership between the Democratic Republic of Congo and Burundi has emerged as a cornerstone of Congolese strategy. This alliance, operationalised through the deployment of the Burundian National Defence Force (Forces Nationales Burundaises – FNB) to South Kivu, represents far more than mere military reinforcement. It is a profound strategic realignment that counters a key objective of Rwandan foreign policy: the complete isolation of the DRC. Understanding this partnership is essential to comprehending the shifting dynamics of power and resistance in the east.

The Pillars of the Partnership

The cooperation between the FARDC and the FNB is multifaceted and highly strategic:
1. Closing the Southern Flank: South Kivu shares a long and porous border with Burundi. By securing Burundi as an ally, Kinshasa effectively seals off a potential southern front. This prevents Rwanda from opening another operational theatre of conflict or using Burundian territory as a transit route for its proxies. It allows the FARDC and Wazalendo to concentrate their forces against the primary threat—the M23 terrorist group and its backers—in the north of the province and in North Kivu.
2. Operational Effectiveness: The FNB is a battle-hardened force with significant experience in counter-insurgency operations. Their troops have engaged against armed groups in Burundi and, notably, contributed to the African Union mission in Somalia (AMISOM). This experience makes them a potent allied force on the ground in South Kivu, where they have been actively involved in combating groups like the RED-Tabara, a Burundian rebel faction opposed to the government in Bujumbura.
3. A Message of Regional Solidarity: The alliance shatters the narrative of the DRC as a isolated, passive victim. It demonstrates that Congo is capable of forging strong, bilateral military partnerships based on mutual interest. This grants Kinshasa greater diplomatic weight and shows other regional actors that standing with Congo carries strategic benefits.
Kigali’s Objective: Destabilising Bujumbura

The strength of this alliance explains why the destabilisation of Burundi is a paramount strategic goal for the regime in Kigali. A stable, friendly government in Bujumbura is a major obstacle to Rwandan ambitions.
- The Proxy Strategy: Rwanda has long been accused of supporting Burundian rebel groups, notably the RED-Tabara, which operates from eastern Congo. The aim is to keep the Burundian government preoccupied with internal security threats, thereby limiting its capacity and will to project power and support the DRC. If Rwanda can foment enough instability to topple or severely weaken the government in Bujumbura, it could replace it with a pliable regime, effectively turning Burundi into a client state.
- Encircling and Isolating Congo: The ultimate goal is to strangle the DRC strategically. With a hostile Rwanda to the east, a potentially hostile or unstable Burundi to the south, and a history of tensions with Uganda to the north-east, Congo would be completely encircled by nations either actively hostile or susceptible to Rwandan influence. This isolation would make Kinshasa infinitely more vulnerable to economic pressure and military aggression, allowing for the unchecked exploitation of Congolese resources.
A highly relevant Congolese adage that encapsulates the essence of this strategic alliance is: “Libongo ya ebale esimbi mai, mpe mai esimbaka libongo ya ebale.”

This translates to: “The riverbank holds the water, and the water holds the riverbank.”

The meaning is one of mutual dependence and symbiotic support. The riverbank (Burundi) provides the structure and channel that contains and directs the water (the DRC). Without the bank, the water spills out, becomes chaotic, and loses its power and direction. Conversely, the water sustains the bank; without its flow, the bank becomes barren, cracked, and eroded.

In this context, the DRC (the water) and Burundi (the riverbank) are mutually reinforcing. A stable, secure Burundi provides the critical structural support that allows the DRC to channel its defensive efforts effectively. It contains the conflict and prevents it from spilling into a wider regional conflagration. At the same time, the DRC’s cooperation, by helping combat groups like RED-Tabara on its soil, provides vital security for the Burundian state, preventing its own destabilisation. Each entity is essential to the other’s integrity and security.

Therefore, the Burundian alliance is not a minor tactical footnote but a central pillar of a sovereign Congolese defence strategy. Protecting this partnership and ensuring the stability of Bujumbura is not just about helping an ally; it is a direct act of national self-defence. It is the strategic denial of a key victory to Kigali and a powerful demonstration that Congo is no longer playing a losing game alone.

The Illusion of Rebranding: The Enduring Mask for Foreign Aggression

In the shadowy theatre of conflict in Eastern Congo, where information is a weapon and perception is a battlefield, one of the most persistent and cynical strategies employed by Rwanda and its proxies is the illusion of rebranding. This is the deliberate tactic of dissolving and reconstituting terrorist groups under new names, creating a superficial veneer of change to confuse international observers, circumvent sanctions, and provide a false narrative of a purely internal Congolese conflict. The attempted resurrection of the M23 terrorist group under labels like the “MRDP” (Mouvement révolutionnaire pour la défense du peuple) is not evidence of a new movement; it is the same wolf dressed in a different sheep’s clothing, and it is a tactic with a long and bloody history.

The Mechanics of the Masquerade

The process is calculated and follows a predictable pattern:
1. International Pressure Mounts: When the M23 terrorist group suffers significant military defeats or faces heightened international condemnation and threat of sanctions, its backers in Kigali face a diplomatic problem.
2. Strategic Dissolution: The M23 “officially” disbands or is dissolved. This is a theatrical gesture designed to placate the international community and create the illusion of compliance.
3. Instantaneous Rebirth: Almost immediately, a new group emerges. In the past, the RCD became the CNDP, which then became the M23. The proposed “MRDP” is simply the next intended iteration. This new entity claims to be a distinct, home-grown Congolese movement with fresh grievances.
4. A Change of Name, Not Nature: Crucially, nothing else changes. The leadership remains composed of the same hardened M23 commanders. The foot soldiers are the same. The weaponry, the funding, the command and control, and the ultimate allegiance to the Rwandan Defence Force (RDF) remain entirely unchanged. The new name is merely a public relations exercise.
The Strategic Objectives of Rebranding

This tactic serves several critical functions for the aggressors:
- To Confuse and Delay the International Community: For diplomats and UN officials, a new name creates ambiguity. It fuels debates over “who they are” and “what they want,” restarting a cycle of analysis and dialogue that buys the terrorist group invaluable time to regroup, rearm, and reconsolidate its forces without military pressure.
- To Evade Accountability and Sanctions: Targeted sanctions by the UN and other bodies are often specific to named groups like the M23. By creating a new label, the architects of the violence hope to create a legal loophole, allowing their fighters and financiers to escape designated sanctions lists.
- To Reinforce a False Narrative: Rwanda’s primary diplomatic defence is to claim the conflict is an internal Congolese matter. The creation of a “new” group with a Congolese-sounding name is stage-managed to support this lie. It is designed to obscure the undeniable chain of command that leads directly back to Kigali and to dissuade the international community from taking decisive action against the state sponsor of the terror.
The Historical Context in South Kivu and Beyond

This is not a new innovation. South Kivu has witnessed this strategy for decades. The various mai-mai militias, the FDLR, and other entities have often splintered and rebranded. The transformation of the CNDP into the M23 in 2012 is the most famous precedent. The attempted launch of the “MRDP” follows the same worn-out playbook, indicating a belief that the international community has a short memory and a limited appetite for discerning truth from fiction.

A profoundly wise Congolese adage that exposes this hollow strategy is: “Ezali ngando moko, ezali kaka kobebisa eteni mosusu ya elanga.”

This translates to: “It is the same elephant, it’s just damaging a different part of the plantation.”

The meaning is brilliantly clear and utterly damning. The elephant—a massive, destructive force—is the same. It hasn’t changed its nature, its appetite, or its owner. It has simply moved from one part of the field to another, destroying a new section of crops. The farmer who focuses on the specific damaged plot, rather than on the elephant itself, is doomed to lose his entire harvest.

The “MRDP” is the same elephant. The M23 terrorist group, under a new name, is still the same instrument of Rwandan expansionism. To engage with it as a new entity, to analyse its “new” grievances, or to consider it a legitimate partner for dialogue is to make the same catastrophic error as the farmer. It is to focus on the latest damaged patch of Congolese sovereignty while ignoring the persistent, destructive animal that is causing the damage.

For the people of South Kivu and the Congolese government, the response to rebranding must be unwavering. The name is irrelevant. The assessment must be based on the group’s actions, its leadership, and—most importantly—its source of sustenance. The international community must see through the illusion and recognise that a change of label does not alter the fundamental truth: this remains a foreign-sponsored terrorist campaign against the sovereignty of the Democratic Republic of Congo.
The International Complicity: The Crippling Cost of Inaction and Equivocation

In the long and tragic narrative of conflict in Eastern Congo, the role of international bodies and foreign governments has been a source of profound frustration and anger for the Congolese people. Beyond the occasional statements of concern, a strong argument exists that the inertia, equivocation, and strategic myopia of the international community have not merely failed to resolve the crisis but have actively enabled the aggressor. This is a complicity born not of active malice, but of a prioritisation of geopolitical stability, regional partnerships, and a fundamental unwillingness to confront a known spoiler with meaningful consequences. For the victims in Kivu, the gap between “verbal condemnations” and tangible action has been a death sentence.

The Facets of Complicity

This enabling behaviour manifests in several key ways:
1. The Diplomacy of False Equivalence: International mediators, often under the banner of the UN or regional bodies like the ICGLR, consistently place the sovereign government of the DRC and the M23 terrorist group at the same negotiating table. This legitimises a foreign proxy as a party to a political dispute, effectively rewarding terrorism and granting it a platform it could never achieve through legitimate means. It frames an act of foreign aggression as an “internal conflict,” which is precisely the narrative Rwanda seeks to promote.
2. The Aversion to Naming and Shaming: For years, overwhelming evidence from UN Group of Experts reports, human rights organisations, and independent analysts has meticulously documented Rwandan support for M23. Yet, the diplomatic response from powerful nations has been tepid. Strong, targeted sanctions on the architects of this policy in Kigali and the military commanders involved have been slow, limited, or non-existent. This lack of consequence sends a clear message: the cost of aggression is lower than the cost of intervention for the international community.
3. The Primacy of Strategic Interests: Rwanda is often viewed by Western capitals as a stable ally in a volatile region, a useful partner in peacekeeping missions, and a state that maintains order. This perception leads to a wilful blindness towards its destabilising actions in Congo. The strategic value of Rwanda as a partner is consistently weighed against the suffering of millions of Congolese civilians, and tragically, the strategic calculation often wins. This makes the “condemnations” ring hollow and reveal a stark hierarchy of human value in international affairs.
4. The Cycle of “Crisis and Response”: The international system is geared towards emergency humanitarian response, not proactive political resolution. It mobilises to feed refugees after they flee but does little to prevent the violence that displaces them. This creates a perverse economy where aid agencies manage the symptoms of a conflict that powerful nations are unwilling to cure at its source.
The Impact on the Ground in South Kivu

This international inertia has direct and devastating consequences:
- Prolonged Suffering: Every delayed sanction, every equivocating statement, and every failed peace agreement allows the M23 terrorists and their backers time to regroup, rearm, and launch new offensives. The international community’s inaction is measured in Congolese lives lost and villages burned.
- Empowerment of the Aggressor: Rwanda reads the lack of serious consequences as a green light to continue its strategy. The message is clear: the international community may grumble, but it will not act decisively.
- Erosion of Faith: For the Wazalendo patriots and the ordinary citizens of Kivu, the international community loses all credibility. They are seen not as saviours or honest brokers, but as complicit bystanders or even tacit supporters of the status quo, their declarations of human rights and sovereignty exposed as selective and hypocritical.
A poignant Congolese adage that captures the exhaustion with empty words is: “Bomoi ezali kotanga lisusu lisolo moko, kasi makasi oyo ezali na kati ezali kokufa.”

This translates to: “Life is reading the same story over again, but the strength in it is dying.”

The meaning is one of devastating fatigue and the slow death of hope. The “same story” is the cyclical nature of the conflict: the aggression, the international “condemnations,” the hollow diplomacy, and the resumption of violence. Each time the story is “read” again, the people’s faith that the ending will be different—their strength and hope—erodes further. The international community’s statements are just a familiar, repetitive page in this tragic book, a ritual of words that lacks the strength of action to change the narrative. The strength, or faith, in those words is dying, leaving behind a bitter residue of cynicism and a realisation that salvation will not come from abroad.

The charge of international complicity is, therefore, a moral one. It asserts that in the face of overwhelming evidence of war crimes and aggression, neutrality is not an option; it is a form of taking sides. Silence and inaction are not passive—they are active choices that benefit the party violating international law. For Congo to truly break the cycle, it must rely on its own resolve, as the recent military victories demonstrate because the history of international engagement has been one of enabling the crisis it claims to want to solve.
Kinshasa’s New Diplomatic Resolve: The End of Passive Engagement

For decades, the diplomatic playbook of the Democratic Republic of Congo has been characterised by a reactive and often passive posture. It involved attending every proposed forum, engaging with every purported mediator, and often being pressured into agreements that served the interests of aggressors and their international backers more than its own sovereignty. However, a significant and applaudable shift is now underway. The Tshisekedi government’s recent refusal to participate in the “inopportune” conference organised by the Tabombei Foundation signals the emergence of a new, assertive foreign policy—one that is finally aligned with the realities on the battlefield and the will of the Congolese people.

The Tabombei Foundation and the Old Playbook

The proposed Tabombei Foundation conference, reportedly aimed at fostering dialogue, represents the exact kind of diplomatic trap that has ensnared Congo in the past. Such initiatives, often launched with vague terms of reference and questionable neutrality, have historically served to:
- Legitimise Terrorist Groups: By creating a platform for dialogue, they implicitly grant political legitimacy to the M23 terrorist group, elevating them from a criminal, foreign-backed militia to a recognised party in a political negotiation. This is a fundamental victory for their strategy.
- Reset the Cycle of Violence: These talks often culminate in ceasefire agreements that the M23 uses as a tactical pause to regroup, rearm, and recruit fresh forces from across the Rwandan border, all under the guise of engaging in “peace talks.”
- Undermine Military Momentum: Just as the FARDC and Wazalendo patriots gain an advantage on the ground in South Kivu, such diplomatic initiatives can act as a brake, pressuring Kinshasa to halt its offensive operations and thus sacrificing hard-won gains for uncertain promises.
The Significance of the Refusal

Kinshasa’s dismissal of the conference as “inopportune” is therefore not a minor diplomatic slight; it is a revolutionary act of strategic clarity. It demonstrates a government that is finally learning to dictate the terms of its own engagement. This refusal is significant because it:
1. Asserts Diplomatic Sovereignty: It declares that the DRC will no longer be a passive participant in every forum it is invited to. It will assess the utility, timing, and agenda of diplomatic initiatives and reject those that are not in its national interest. This moves Kinshasa from a object of diplomacy to a subject—an active shaper of the diplomatic landscape.
2. Challenges the False Narrative: By refusing to engage, the government forcefully rejects the core falsehood that this is an internal political conflict requiring negotiation. It reaffirms the undeniable truth: that this is a case of foreign aggression employing a terrorist proxy. You do not negotiate with a weapon; you disarm the one who wields it.
3. Aligns Diplomacy with Military Reality: This new resolve is directly informed by the recent successes of the Congolese armed forces. A government that is winning on the ground does not need to enter negotiations from a position of weakness. It can afford to set conditions and reject forums that would squander its momentum. This synchronisation of military and diplomatic power is the hallmark of a mature and strategic state.
The Broader Implications for South Kivu and Beyond

For the people of South Kivu, who bear the brunt of the violence, this shift is crucial. It signals that their government is no longer willing to trade their security for diplomatic politesse. It ensures that the military pressure being applied by the FARDC and Wazalendo will not be prematurely relieved by a poorly conceived peace process.

Internationally, it sends a clear message to Rwanda and its backers that the old tactics of using talks as a cover for rearmament will no longer be tolerated. It also challenges international partners to move beyond their comfort zone of facilitating dialogue and to instead take tangible action against the state sponsor of the terror, Rwanda, if they genuinely wish to see peace.

A powerful Congolese adage that encapsulates this new wisdom is: “Bomoi eutaka epai mosusu, kasi bwanya eutaka na makambo oyo moto akutanaki na yango.”

This translates to: “Life comes from elsewhere, but wisdom comes from experience.”

The profound meaning is that while one might receive gifts or opportunities from outside (“life from elsewhere”), true wisdom is not imported; it is earned through lived experience and learning from one’s own past mistakes.

For years, Kinshasa looked to the international community—to the “elsewhere”—for solutions, attending every conference and signing every agreement placed before it. This external “life” failed to bring peace. The wisdom now being demonstrated—the refusal to engage in inopportune forums—is born from the bitter experience of those failed agreements: Sun City, Nairobi, Luanda. It is the wisdom of a nation that has learned the hard way that not all dialogue is constructive, and that sometimes the strongest diplomatic move is to refuse to play a rigged game.

This new diplomatic resolve, therefore, is a sign of a nation coming of age. It is the understanding that true sovereignty is not just defended by soldiers on the front lines in South Kivu, but also by diplomats in elegant rooms who have the courage to say “no.”
The Imperative of Military Reform: Forging a Shield of Sovereignty in South Kivu

The recent military successes in South Kivu, achieved through the potent coalition of the national army and the Wazalendo patriots, have illuminated a path to victory. However, they have also exposed the enduring weaknesses within the Armed Forces of the Democratic Republic of Congo (FARDC). While the bravery of many individual soldiers is not in question, the institution itself remains plagued by systemic failures that threaten to undermine these hard-won gains. Therefore, the comprehensive and non-negotiable reform of the FARDC into a professional, well-equipped, and disciplined national force is not merely an administrative task; it is the fundamental prerequisite for securing the lasting sovereignty of the nation.

The Deficiencies of the Past

The historical performance of the FARDC in Eastern Congo has been inconsistent, often characterised by:
- Lack of Cohesion and Internal Divisions: The army has historically been a patchwork of integrated former rebel factions, some of which retained loyalties that superseded national duty. This created a force vulnerable to infiltration and incapable of a unified, national command structure.
- Poor Logistics and Welfare: Soldiers have frequently been deployed without adequate rations, pay, or medical support. This neglect fosters corruption, as troops are forced to prey on the very population they are meant to protect to survive, destroying civilian trust and morale within the ranks.
- Inadequate Equipment and Training: Despite having vast budgetary allocations on paper, the rank-and-file soldier often lacks modern equipment, sufficient ammunition, and the advanced tactical training required to defeat a well-drilled, technologically superior adversary like the M23 terrorist group and its Rwandan backers.
The Pillars of Essential Reform

Transforming the FARDC requires a root-and-branch overhaul built on several non-negotiable pillars:
1. Professionalisation and Patriotism: The army’s ethos must be transformed from a job into a vocation. This requires instilling a culture of national service, discipline, and unwavering loyalty to the Congolese constitution, not to individual commanders or foreign powers. This involves a rigorous vetting process to purge elements with dual loyalties or who are compromised by foreign intelligence services.
2. Technical Modernisation and Logistics: A sovereign nation must be able to maintain its own defence. This means investing in a transparent procurement system to provide soldiers with modern arms, secure communications, drones for intelligence, and armoured vehicles. Crucially, it requires a logistical corps capable of ensuring that troops at the front line in Kivu are fed, paid regularly, and supported medically.
3. The Welfare of the Soldier: A soldier who is worried about his family’s starvation will not fight effectively. Ensuring regular, liveable salaries paid directly into bank accounts to avoid corruption, along with housing and healthcare for military families, is not a luxury—it is a strategic necessity. It eliminates the primary incentive for looting and builds a professional, focused force.
4. Accountability and Civilian Relations: The army must be subject to the law. Units and commanders accused of human rights abuses or corruption must be investigated and prosecuted. Rebuilding trust with the civilian population of Kivu is essential for gathering intelligence and gaining the unwavering support that has so powerfully been given to the Wazalendo.
The Strategic Necessity

This reform is time-critical for several reasons:
- Beyond the Wazalendo: The patriot movement is a powerful force, but a modern state cannot rely indefinitely on irregular militias for its core defence. The FARDC must be reformed to become the professional, permanent shield of the nation, capable of standing firm without auxiliary support.
- Deterring Future Aggression: A weak, corrupt army is an invitation for predation. A professional, well-equipped, and high-morale FARDC serves as the strongest possible deterrent to Rwanda and any other state or group considering violating Congolese sovereignty.
- The Foundation of True Sovereignty: Ultimately, a nation that cannot defend its own borders with its own professional institutions is not fully sovereign. Military reform is the bedrock upon which economic development, political stability, and national pride are built.
A deeply resonant Congolese adage that speaks to the necessity of self-reliance and internal strength is: “Moto oyo awuti na ndako, asalaka mosala ya ndako.”

This translates to: “The person from the home, does the work of the home.”

The meaning is one of inherent responsibility and capability. The duties and challenges of one’s own household cannot be permanently outsourced to others; they must be undertaken by the members of the household themselves. They are the ones with the most vested interest in success.

In this context, the “work of the home”—the defence of the Congolese nation—must ultimately be done by the “people of the home”—a reformed, professional, and sovereign Congolese army. While international partners can offer temporary assistance, and the Wazalendo have shown heroic resolve, they cannot be a permanent crutch. The FARDC must be transformed to professionally and capably do the “work” of defending the home. To outsource this duty indefinitely is to admit a fundamental failure of statehood. The reform of the FARDC is therefore the ultimate act of national self-belief and the definitive step towards claiming the sovereignty that the people of Kivu are fighting and dying for.
Internal Discipline and Sovereignty: The Unbreakable Chain of Command

In the midst of a major national security crisis, such as the foreign-backed terrorism inflicted upon Kivu, the strength of a state is measured not only by its ability to project power externally but also by its capacity to enforce order within its own institutions. The recent arrest of a police officer for the improper resignation from his post may seem, on the surface, a minor disciplinary matter. However, when analysed through the lens of state sovereignty and wartime resolve, it emerges as a potent symbolic act. It signals a critical focus from the government in Kinshasa on enforcing its own laws and maintaining ironclad institutional discipline—a non-negotiable prerequisite for defeating an adversary as disciplined as the M23 terrorist group and its backers.

The Context: Sovereignty Under Siege

Eastern Congo, particularly Kivu, represents a region where state authority has historically been fragmented and contested. The presence of numerous armed groups, corruption, and external aggression has often created a climate of impunity, where the rules and laws of the Congolese state are seen as optional. In such an environment, the very concept of sovereignty is weakened. Sovereignty is not just control over territory; it is the monopoly on the legitimate use of force and the unwavering authority of the state’s legal and institutional framework.

When a member of the security services—a pillar of the state—flouts its procedures (in this case, the proper channels for resignation), it is a direct challenge to this authority. It suggests that personal discretion outweighs institutional duty, eroding the chain of command from within.

The Arrest as a Strategic Signal

The decision to arrest the officer sends several unambiguous messages:
1. To State Institutions: It reaffirms that no one is above the law, especially those sworn to uphold it. During a national crisis, the rules matter more, not less. This act asserts that the state will hold its own employees to account, thereby strengthening internal discipline and preventing a descent into chaos or insubordination within the ranks. A security force that cannot govern itself cannot hope to govern a territory under threat from a disciplined terrorist proxy.
2. To the General Public: For the citizens of South Kivu, who have endured years of insecurity, the sight of the state enforcing its own laws rigorously is a powerful reassurance. It builds trust and legitimacy. It demonstrates that the state is capable of self-regulation and is committed to being a disciplined, lawful entity—a stark contrast to the predatory and chaotic forces of the M23 terrorists.
3. To the Adversary: Rwanda’s strategy relies on portraying the Congolese state as weak, corrupt, and illegitimate—a failed entity that cannot govern itself, justifying their intervention. By demonstrating a firm grip on internal discipline, Kinshasa directly counters this narrative. It projects an image of a state that is in control, strengthening its diplomatic hand and undermining the propaganda of the aggressor.
The Link to Military Effectiveness

This focus on internal discipline is directly translatable to the battlefield. The FARDC and Wazalendo are engaged in a difficult war against a well-resourced and coordinated enemy. Victory in such a conflict depends on:
- Unquestioned Chain of Command: Orders must be followed, and strategies must be executed cohesively.
- Unit Cohesion: Soldiers and police must trust their command structure and each other.
- Reliance on due process: Operational success depends on discipline, not individual whim.
The officer’s arrest reinforces the principle that the system’s rules are paramount. This culture of discipline within the national police is a necessary foundation for the same culture within the army. A state that tolerates indiscipline in one wing of its security apparatus cannot demand perfect discipline from another.

A relevant Congolese adage that encapsulates this principle is: “Bokasi ya moto ezali makasi ya ndako.”

This translates to: “The strength of a person is the strength of the home.”

The meaning is profound and multifaceted. An individual’s ability to project strength, resilience, and capability externally is entirely dependent on the internal order, stability, and strength of their own household. If the home is chaotic, divided, or weak, the individual will be too, no matter how brave they appear.

In this context, the “home” is the Congolese state and its institutions. The “person” is the nation projecting power and defending its sovereignty in Kivu. The arrest of the officer is an act of strengthening the “home”—enforcing its internal rules and ensuring order within its own walls. This internal fortitude is what provides the foundation for the external strength displayed by the FARDC and Wazalendo on the front lines. A state that cannot manage a disciplinary issue within its police force cannot hope to manage a complex counter-terrorism operation.

Therefore, this seemingly small act is a macrocosm of the larger struggle for Congolese sovereignty. It is a declaration that the state will first put its own house in order, ensuring it is a disciplined, lawful, and coherent entity. Only such a state can legitimately demand the loyalty of its citizens and possess the unwavering resolve to ultimately defeat the terrorists at its gates.
Addressing the Counterargument: Is Militarisation the Answer? The Quest for a Durable Peace

In advocating for a robust military response to the existential threat posed by the M23 terrorist group and its backers in South Kivu, a critical counterargument must be acknowledged and addressed: the legitimate concern that a focus on militarisation alone is a unsustainable and potentially dangerous path. Critics rightly argue that an exclusively military strategy, devoid of complementary political and social initiatives, can create a security vacuum, perpetuate cycles of violence, and fail to address the root causes of conflict. This perspective is not to be dismissed; it serves as a crucial reminder that while a strong defence is necessary, it is not, in itself, sufficient for building a lasting and just peace.

The Limits of the Bullet

A purely military strategy carries inherent risks:
- Governance Vacuum: Liberating a town from M23 terrorists is a tactical victory. However, if the Congolese state does not immediately follow with a tangible “peace dividend”—such as restoring administration, police, courts, schools, and clinics—the population’s initial euphoria will turn to disillusionment. This vacuum can be filled by other armed groups or allow the M23 to reinfiltrate, making the military effort futile.
- Human Rights and Community Alienation: A militarised approach, especially one involving irregular forces like the Wazalendo, risks human rights abuses and the settling of old scores. If the response to terrorism is perceived as collective punishment or driven by ethnic animosity, it will only fuel the grievances that Rwanda exploits to recruit its proxies, creating a self-perpetuating cycle of violence.
- Economic Unsustainability: Maintaining a large, operational military force and supporting militia networks is astronomically expensive. It diverts crucial resources from development, healthcare, and education—the very sectors that build long-term stability. A nation that spends everything on guns may win the battle but lose the future.
The Imperative of the Integrated Approach

Therefore, the argument is not for militarisation instead of other efforts, but for militarisation as the essential foundation upon which all other efforts depend. The sequence and integration are everything.
1. Security as the Prerequisite: There can be no development, no credible governance, and no reconciliation in a town controlled by a terrorist group. The first, non-negotiable step is to establish physical security through military means. This is the door that must be unlocked before any other can be opened. The FARDC and Wazalendo are not just fighting an enemy; they are creating the necessary condition of possibility for all other interventions.
2. The “Three Pillars” of Durable Peace: Military success must be immediately followed by a surge in non-military efforts:
  - Governance: The state must visibly and effectively return to liberated areas. This means mayors, judges, and police who are honest, professional, and represent the rule of law, not predation.
  - Development: Roads must be built, markets must reopen, and children must return to school. Economic opportunity is the most powerful antidote to the allure of armed groups.
  - National Reconciliation: This is perhaps the most complex challenge, especially in South Kivu with its history of manipulated ethnic tensions. A genuine, community-led process must address historical grievances, promote inter-community dialogue, and firmly reject the toxic narratives that have been weaponised by Rwanda and other spoilers.
A profoundly wise Congolese adage that perfectly frames this necessary integration is: “Monganga ya lipaso asalisaka mpota, kasi monganga ya bonkoko asalisaka motema.”

This translates to: “The surgeon treats the wound, but the traditional healer treats the heart.”

The meaning is one of holistic healing. A surgeon is essential for addressing the immediate, life-threatening injury—the bullet wound, the gash (the military threat). This is urgent and non-negotiable. However, if only the physical wound is treated, the patient may never fully recover. The trauma, the fear, the spiritual and emotional damage (the root causes of conflict) remain. The traditional healer’s role is to treat this deeper sickness, to heal the heart and the spirit.

In the context of Kivu, the military—the FARDC and Wazalendo—are the surgeons. Their role is to perform the urgent, dangerous work of cutting out the cancerous presence of the M23 terrorist group. This is the essential first step.

But the traditional healers are the administrators, the developers, the peace-builders, and the community elders. Their role is to heal the deeper sickness: the trauma of violence, the legacy of distrust, and the lack of opportunity that made the community vulnerable in the first place.

To ask, “Is militarisation the answer?” is to misunderstand the diagnosis. You need both the surgeon and the traditional healer. One cannot succeed without the other. To neglect the military (the surgeon) is to let the patient bleed out. To neglect governance and reconciliation (the traditional healer) is to ensure the disease of conflict will simply metastasise and return in a new form.

The conclusion, therefore, is that a military focus is not the complete answer, but it is the indispensable first answer. It is the necessary condition that creates the space for all other answers to finally be implemented. The challenge for President Tshisekedi’s government is to ensure that the surgeons and the traditional healers advance together, hand-in-hand, into every newly liberated village in South Kivu.
The African Example: Sovereignty Forged in the Fire of Military Reform

The journey of the Democratic Republic of Congo towards lasting peace and unchallenged sovereignty is often viewed through a lens of unique complexity. However, it is a path that has been trodden, with significant success, by other African nations emerging from periods of profound instability and foreign interference. The experiences of countries like Burkina Faso and Angola provide powerful, sobering, and ultimately hopeful parallels. They demonstrate a universal truth on the continent: a rebuilt, professional, and patriotic national army is not a mere instrument of war but the fundamental cornerstone upon which a nation reclaims its right to determine its own destiny. For the people of South Kivu, this external evidence validates their own struggle and underscores the non-negotiable imperative of reforming the FARDC.

Angola: From Civil War to Regional Power

Following a devastating civil war, Angola faced the monumental task of unifying rival factions into a single national army, the Forças Armadas de Angola (FAA). The process was arduous and expensive, but its success is undeniable.
- The Parallel: Like the DRC, Angola had to integrate former rebel fighters (from UNITA) into a national force, a process fraught with risks of internal division and lingering loyalties.
- The Outcome: Through significant investment and political will, the Angolan state built the FAA into a powerful, professionalised military. This strength allowed it to secure its borders, exert control over its territory (particularly the oil-rich Cabinda enclave), and project power as a regional stabilising force. Its military capability commands respect and deters external aggression, a direct result of prioritising defence sovereignty.
- The Lesson for DRC: Angola’s example proves that a fractured military can be forged into a unified, national institution. This transformation is what allows a state to move from being a victim of regional meddling to a respected regional actor in its own right.
Burkina Faso: The Imperative of Self-Reliance

While Burkina Faso’s recent history is complex and its current trajectory under a military junta is subject to international debate, its initial popular mobilisation against jihadist insurgency is highly relevant.
- The Parallel: Burkina Faso, like the DRC in South Kivu, faced a severe terrorist insurgency that threatened to overwhelm the state. The initial response involved reliance on foreign military partners and private security contractors, which yielded limited results and raised questions about national sovereignty.
- The Shift: There was a pivotal turn towards investing in and motivating its own national forces and supporting the mobilisation of patriotic volunteers (VDP – Volunteers for the Defence of the Homeland). This shift in strategy, focusing on national ownership of the conflict, was crucial in reclaiming initiative and territory.
- The Lesson for DRC: The Burkinabè experience, in its early phases, highlights the limitation of outsourcing security and the catalytic power of a mobilised citizenry fighting for their homeland. It reinforces the model emerging in South Kivu, where the FARDC-Wazalendo coalition is proving vastly more effective than the FARDC fighting alone or with distant international advisers.
The Congolese Context: Learning from the Continent

These examples are not blueprints to be copied blindly but are sources of crucial strategic validation for the DRC.
1. Security Precedes Development: Both cases illustrate that economic development and political reconciliation cannot flourish in a state of existential insecurity. The first step is always to establish a monopoly on the legitimate use of force within one’s borders. This is the prerequisite the FARDC and Wazalendo are fighting to achieve against the M23 terrorists.
2. The Army as a Unifying Symbol: A professional national army, paid by the state and loyal to the constitution, becomes a symbol of national unity that transcends ethnic and regional divisions. It is the physical embodiment of the state’s contract to protect all its citizens, a necessary antidote to the divisive tactics employed by terrorist proxies.
3. Deterrence Through Strength: Both Angola and Burkina Faso demonstrate that a capable military is the ultimate deterrent. It raises the cost of aggression for any neighbour or non-state actor considering violating territorial integrity. For the DRC, a reformed FARDC is the only long-term guarantee that the cycle of Rwandan-backed invasions will end.
A compelling Congolese adage that speaks to this principle of self-reliance and learning from others is: “Liboso mama na yo ayekola kotonga bakitunga, bato mosusu bayebaki ndenge ya kosala yango.”

This translates to: “Before your mother learned to weave baskets, others knew how.”

The meaning is one of humility and wisdom. It acknowledges that one’s own current struggle to learn a vital skill (like weaving baskets, or building a sovereign state) has already been mastered by others. There is no shame in this; the intelligent path is to observe, learn, and apply those lessons to one’s own situation.

For the DRC, Burkina Faso and Angola are those who “knew how to weave baskets.” They have already undertaken the painful process of rebuilding a military to secure their sovereignty. Their experiences, both their successes and their setbacks, provide invaluable lessons for Kinshasa. The adage urges Congolese policymakers to look to these African examples not with envy, but with a pragmatic eye for strategies that can be adapted and applied. It is a call to learn from the continent, to understand that the solution to Congo’s security dilemma is not a mystery but a difficult, achievable project that others have already embarked upon.

The fight in Kivu is therefore not an isolated struggle. It is part of a broader African narrative of throwing off the shackles of insecurity and external manipulation. The success of the FARDC and Wazalendo,

coupled with deep, sincere military reform, it would not only liberate Congolese territory but would also place the DRC firmly within a proud African tradition of nations that fought to reclaim their sovereign destiny.
The People’s Unbreakable Will: The Bedrock of Sovereignty

The complex tapestry of the conflict in Eastern Congo—woven with threads of foreign aggression, failed diplomacy, and internal challenges—can often seem impossible to unravel. Yet, after decades of pain and exploitation, a fundamental and powerful truth has emerged with crystalline clarity: the ultimate, non-negotiable guarantee of the Democratic Republic of Congo’s sovereignty does not lie in the conference rooms of New York or Brussels, nor in the conditional support of foreign capitals. It resides in the unbreakable will of the Congolese people themselves, a force that has now been awakened and is actively defending the homeland with a courage that has reshaped the nation’s destiny.

The Failure of External Salvation

The history of the Congo is, in part, a history of the search for a saviour. From the UN peacekeeping missions whose mandates often seemed to favour stability over justice, to the endless cycles of talks in Luanda and Nairobi that served only to legitimise terrorists, the promise of external rescue has proven to be a mirage. International bodies have offered “verbal condemnations” while the M23 terrorist group, armed and directed by Rwanda, continued its campaign of violence in South Kivu. This reliance on foreign saviours fostered a debilitating culture of dependency and cynicism.

The Awakening of a National Spirit

The rise of the Wazalendo patriots represents the definitive end of this era. It is the manifestation of a national spirit that said, “Enough.” This movement is not a top-down initiative but a grassroots explosion of resolve. These are farmers, teachers, mechanics, and market traders who, faced with the imminent threat of their homes being overrun by terrorists, picked up rudimentary arms and chose to fight. Their power does not come from advanced technology or vast budgets; it comes from something infinitely more potent: the moral conviction that they are defending what is rightfully theirs. They fight with a stake in the outcome that no foreign soldier or diplomat could ever possess.

The Synthesis of People and State

The critical evolution has been the synthesis of this raw, popular will with the instruments of the state. The coalition between the Wazalendo and the FARDC is the practical embodiment of this new covenant. The people, through their patriots, have infused the state with their resolve, legitimacy, and unparalleled local knowledge. In return, the state provides the structure, firepower, and national framework to amplify that resolve into decisive military victories. This partnership has proven to be the only formula capable of consistently defeating the M23 terrorists and shifting the dynamics on the ground in Kivu.

The Unbreakable Will

This will is unbreakable because it is rooted in something deeper than politics; it is rooted in identity, heritage, and love for the land. It is the parent defending their child’s future, the community defending its ancestral home, and a generation defending its right to determine its own destiny. This is a force that cannot be subdued by superior weaponry alone. It is a force that accepts sacrifice because the cost of submission is deemed infinitely greater.

A final, powerful Congolese adage that encapsulates this entire struggle is: “Bomoi ya nzete ya sukali ezali na kati ya nzete ya sukali yango moko.”

This translates to: “The life of the sugarcane is in the sugarcane itself.”

The meaning is one of profound self-reliance and inner strength. The sweetness, the essence, the very life-force of the sugarcane is not imported from outside; it is generated from within its own fibres. No external actor can give it its essential nature.

For the Democratic Republic of Congo, this adage is the ultimate lesson. The solution, the strength, the “sweetness” of peace and sovereignty will not be gifted by foreign saviours. The international community can be a facilitator, but it cannot be the source. The true life-force of the nation—its resilience, its courage, and its unwavering will to exist—is generated from within, from the hearts of its people in South Kivu, Kinshasa, and every village in between.

The Wazalendo are the living proof of this. They are the sweetness of the sugarcane. They have shown that the ultimate guarantee of Congo’s sovereignty is not a document signed in a foreign capital, but a farmer standing his ground on a hill in Minembwe, a student-turned-sentinel in the forests of Fizi, and the unbreakable will of a people who have decided, once and for all, that their homeland is worth fighting for. Their resolve is the foundation upon which a truly sovereign and peaceful Congo will finally be built.

The Battle for Congo’s Soul: A Multifront War for the Nation’s Destiny

The recent victories secured at Minembwe and Rugesi are indeed seismic, but to view them solely as military triumphs is to miss their profound significance. They represent a fundamental shift in the dynamics of a conflict that has ravaged the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo for decades. This battle is not merely for territory; it is a multifront war for the very soul of the nation, pitting a newly forged Congolese resolve against a well-established machinery of aggression that employs both brutal force and insidious deception.

The Military Front: A New Doctrine of Defence

The success of these operations lies in the potent synergy of a hybrid war model. The national air power of the FARDC provided the decisive, heavy-handed force required to break the M23 terrorist group’s fortified positions and disrupt their command and logistics. This was complemented by the indigenous knowledge and relentless patriotic grit of the Wazalendo, whose mastery of the complex terrain of South Kivu allowed for effective ground manoeuvres and encirclements. This coalition between the formal state army and the grassroots mobilisation of the people has created a new, replicable blueprint for national defence—one that is inherently more resilient and legitimate than the FARDC fighting alone.

The Informational Front: The Weaponisation of Narrative

However, as the text astutely notes, the adversary fights with more than bullets. The M23 terrorist group and its backers in Kigali have long employed a Machiavellian strategy of informational warfare. The referenced letter from the Banyamulenge community exposes a chilling tactic: to manipulate human suffering, stage provocations, and fabricate a narrative of state-sponsored persecution. This cynical ploy, designed to manufacture a pretext for further “humanitarian” intervention, is a direct inheritance from the playbook of the 1990s invasions. It relies on two factors: the international community’s short attention span and its susceptibility to emotionally charged, albeit fabricated, narratives. This battle for truth is as critical as the fight for the hills of Minembwe; losing it can undermine every military victory.

The Diplomatic Front: The End of Illusions

This understanding is why the “old diplomacy” of endless rounds of talks in Luanda and Nairobi has conclusively failed. These agreements were not peace deals; they were strategic pauses that provided the M23 terrorists and their masters invaluable time to regroup, rearm, and recruit fresh forces from across the Rwandan border. Their failure was predetermined because they were built on a false premise: that one can negotiate in good faith with a proxy that answers not to its own political interests but to the expansionist dictates of a foreign state. Kinshasa’s recent refusal to engage in forums it deems counterproductive, such as the Tabombei initiative, signals a welcome and critical evolution—a move from passive participation to assertive diplomatic sovereignty.

The Path Forward: Resolve Over Complacency

The path forward, therefore, requires unwavering resolve on all fronts:

Military Consolidation: The partnership with the Wazalendo must be formalised and supported with logistics and equipment, not left to chance. This model is Congo’s strategic advantage.
Diplomatic Clarity: A clear, public red line must be drawn with Kigali, moving beyond ambiguous diplomacy to a policy of unambiguous deterrence, backed by the demonstrated will to enforce it.
Institutional Reform: The FARDC itself must undergo a non-negotiable transformation into a professional, well-equipped, and disciplined force, free from the corruption and internal divisions that have historically weakened it.
Information Vigilance: The government must lead a relentless campaign to expose the lies and false narratives of the aggressor, presenting irrefutable evidence to the international community and demanding accountability.

A compelling Congolese adage that speaks to this moment of self-reliance is: “moto oyo azali kozinda na mai ya zamba, aleli mpo na ye moko.”

This translates to: “The duiker of the forest, weeps for itself.”

The meaning is one of profound self-reliance and resilience. The duiker (a small forest antelope), when hurt or threatened, does not cry out for external saviours from outside the forest. It endures, survives, and handles its plight on its own terms, within its own domain. It is an emblem of quiet, internal strength.

For Congo, this adage is a powerful repudiation of decades of looking abroad for solutions. The victories at Minembwe and Rugesi prove that the capacity, the strength, and the resolve to solve Congo’s problems lie within Congo itself—within its own army and, most importantly, within its own people. The time for weeping for external intervention is over. The nation must now, like the duiker, rely on its own innate strength and resources to secure its future.

Those who argue that this assertive path leads to perpetual war are mistaken. It is the path of weakness and perpetual concession that has led to three decades of perpetual victimhood. A strong, sovereign, and self-reliant Congo, capable of robustly defending its borders and its narrative, is the only foundation upon which lasting peace and development can be built. The people, through the sacrifice of the Wazalendo, have shown their unbreakable will. The destiny of the nation is, indeed, finally in its own hands.

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Joram Jojo

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Rwanda

Social Architect at Rwanda Autonomous Media

Activist Media

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The Minembwe Blueprint: A Decisive Turn in the Struggle for Congolese Sovereignty

The Tactical Victory: A New Model of Defence

The Psychological Turning Point: Shattering the Myth

Conclusion: A Replicable Model for the Future

The Rugesi Testament: A Covenant Forged in the Fire of Combat

The Enemy’s Many Faces: The Deliberate Web of Destabilisation in South Kivu

A Historical Pattern of Aggression: The Enduring Blueprint for Destabilisation

The Weaponisation of Narrative: The Cynical War for Truth in South Kivu

The Failure of Hollow Diplomacy: The Vicious Cycle of Talks and Treachery

The Language of Force: The Sole Dialect of Deterrence

The Wazalendo Phenomenon: The Unbreakable Will of a People in Arms

A New Model for Defence: The FARDC-Wazalendo Coalition – An Army Rooted in its People

President Tshisekedi’s Historic Crossroads: From Battlefield Gains to Enduring Sovereignty

The Definition of a Red Line: From Ambiguous Diplomacy to Unambiguous Deterrence

The Burundian Alliance: A Strategic Bulwark Against Regional Isolation

The Illusion of Rebranding: The Enduring Mask for Foreign Aggression

The International Complicity: The Crippling Cost of Inaction and Equivocation

Kinshasa’s New Diplomatic Resolve: The End of Passive Engagement

The Imperative of Military Reform: Forging a Shield of Sovereignty in South Kivu

Internal Discipline and Sovereignty: The Unbreakable Chain of Command

Addressing the Counterargument: Is Militarisation the Answer? The Quest for a Durable Peace

The African Example: Sovereignty Forged in the Fire of Military Reform

The People’s Unbreakable Will: The Bedrock of Sovereignty

The Battle for Congo’s Soul: A Multifront War for the Nation’s Destiny

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