An almost hopeless case

Congo

Jan 20th 2005 GOMA AND KINSHASA
From The Economist print edition

The world's bloodiest war goes on—and on

THE people of Congo—arguably, the world's biggest disaster zone—are used to being betrayed, but they are not yet beaten. On January 7th, the head of the country's electoral commission hinted that elections scheduled for June would be postponed. A mob of students and street-kids then surged through Kinshasa, the country's seamy capital, demanding elections on time. To stress their point, they built barriers of burning tyres and pelted riot police with stones. Returning fire, the police killed four people—who have been deemed “martyrs of democracy” in the splodgy pamphlets circulating the city.

That the protesters might want a chance to elect new leaders is understandable. The current government, largely a coalition of rebels spawned by nearly a decade of on-off war, was formed 18 months ago to guide the Democratic Republic of Congo to peace and, indeed, democracy. Unsurprisingly, given its members' qualifications, it has done nothing of the sort. It has passed almost none of the laws needed for elections, according to the terms of a peace deal brokered by South Africa. Lawmakers spend more time touring the country, in new suits and on fat per diems, than working in their offices in Kinshasa. As for the 36 ministers, they are otherwise busy. On January 3rd, six ministers were sacked for corruption after an audit of state-run firms.

This sparked a row between the country's president, Joseph Kabila, a 34-year-old former taxi driver, and one of his four vice-presidents, Jean-Pierre Bemba, a gargantuan former rebel leader, whom officials at the International Criminal Court would like to talk to about his former fighters' alleged habit of cannibalism. In South Africa this week, Mr Bemba threatened to quit the government if elections could not be held on time—and if one of the fallen ministers, formerly of his rebel group, was not reinstated.

If Mr Bemba were to quit, the government might be considered to have collapsed. He is the only former rebel to have retained serious power in government. As Congo's war continues, new rebel leaders in the bush have replaced other former rebels in government.

This week, the UN reported that 20,000 refugees had fled north-eastern Congo into Uganda, after two separate conflicts erupted. The first involved two tribal militias—both, during previous phases of Congo's complicated war, armed by Uganda. The second was between rebels armed by Rwanda and a militia loyal to Mr Kabila, both of which are represented in the government. After clashes between these groups in December, the rebels shot dead or burned alive at least 30 villagers, after accusing them of aiding their enemy, according to the UN. In December, the International Rescue Committee, an American charity, reported that at least 3.8m people had died of war in Congo in the past six years, most through destitution or disease.

Even if Mr Kabila's government holds together, it will not be able to end this warring. In his new year's address, Mr Kabila said that cash earmarked—or so he claimed—for development would have to be diverted to buy bullets, to stave off the threat of an invasion by Rwanda, the rebels' former sponsor. This would not be money well spent. In December, Mr Kabila sent 10,000 troops to eastern Congo's North Kivu province to tame the rebels, following belligerent noises in Kigali, Rwanda's capital. Vital Kamerhe, who runs Mr Kabila's political party, promised to take the battle “to the streets of Kigali”. In the event, 2,000 of these warriors deserted, rampaging through villages as they fled west. The rest fought, displacing 100,000 civilians, without much changing the balance of power in eastern Congo—or bringing democracy any nearer.

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