On 27 June this year, the foreign affairs ministers of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and Rwanda are set to sign a peace agreement in Washington. Many hope this will bring an end to the three-decade-long crisis that has wrecked eastern DRC and triggered at least two regional wars since 1996, often referred to as Africa’s World Wars.
While the full details of the deal remain unknown, the key points highlighted in the joint statement on peace talks, which was issued by the US State Department, offer some clues. Notably absent, however, is a mechanism for dealing effectively with two inter-connected issues: Kinshasa’s track record of reneging on peace agreements, and Rwanda’s demand for long-term security guarantees. Failure to address these key issues will set the peace deal on a path to failure.
Irreconcilable perspectives
Since the onset of the ongoing war between the M23 rebels and the DRC government in North and South Kivu, two competing narratives have continued to shape the world’s perceptions of its root causes.
Kinshasa and its Western allies frame the conflict as a war of aggression orchestrated and led by Rwanda, accusing Kigali of using M23 as a proxy while deploying its own troops with the aim of annexing territory and looting mineral resources.
Rwanda, for its part, backed by Uganda, Kenya, and respected African statesmen such as former Presidents Thabo Mbeki of South Africa and Olusegun Obasanjo of Nigeria, emphasises the longstanding failure to address the concerns of the Kinyarwanda-speaking populations in the Kivus as central to the conflict. On this side of the argument, two critical issues are acknowledged. One, the DRC government’s alliance with the genocidal FDLR militia has enflamed tensions with Kigali. Two, this alliance has also fuelled the systematic persecution of Congolese Tutsi, which has been a key driver of rebellion, from the AFDL and the RCD to the CNDP, and now the M23.
These two competing narratives were always going to lead to arguments for diametrically opposed solutions.
On one side of the debate, sanctions against Rwanda are presented as the magic formula for restoring peace in the Congo. Proponents of this approach argue that the territorial integrity of the DRC is sacrosanct, and that its restoration hinges on the withdrawal of Rwandan troops from Congolese territory and the defeat of the M23 rebels, whose citizenship they question.
This pro-DRC advocacy does nothing to address the plight of hundreds of thousands of Congolese refugees stranded in neighbouring countries, some of whom have now taken up arms in order to force an end to their decades-long exile. Nor does it address the persistent threat posed by the FDLR which, along with hundreds of other armed groups in North and South Kivu, works with government forces to unleash terror campaigns, particularly against Congolese Tutsi. It is on record that the same group has carried out deadly raids into Rwanda.
Kinshasa’s preferred solution, backed uncritically by its Western allies, ignores the root causes of the conflict. It was tried in 2012. It failed. Sanctions against Rwanda are nothing more than a call to return to the status quo ante—the very state of widespread violence and insecurity that led President Tshisekedi to declare a state of emergency in North Kivu and Ituri provinces in May 2021, months before the re-emergence of the M23 at the end of that same year.
For its part, Rwanda has advocated for a comprehensive solution that addresses both the existential threat it faces and the persistent insecurity in eastern Congo. Its proposals include military operations to neutralise the FDLR; peaceful repatriation of Congolese refugees; and an internal political settlement within the DRC, whose aim should be to resolve issues of governance and bring to an end the systemic discrimination faced by Kinyarwanda-speaking Congolese.
Kinshasa’s unwilling consent
The good news is that Washington’s proposed peace deal appears to offer solutions to some of the concerns raised by both countries.
First, it includes “provisions on the respect for territorial integrity,” a grievance shared by both sides.
Second, it establishes a “Joint Security Coordination Mechanism incorporating the CONOPS”, which is a plan for the neutralisation of the FDLR agreed upon by Angolan, Congolese and Rwandan security experts in October 2024.
Third, it envisions the “facilitation of the return of refugees and internally displaced persons,” a crucial component deliberately ignored by self-styled Western experts across politics, academia, media and rights advocacy, despite being an obvious cause of insecurity.
Finally, the deal outlines a “regional economic integration framework” that could, in principle, improve mineral traceability, and thereby contribute to settling long-standing disputes over resource exploitation.
But here is the rub: all of this has been tried before. Yet, despite the photo-ops and lofty promises, the persistent issues of refugees and the FDLR remain unresolved. There is no mystery as to why. Regardless of who has held power since the fall of Mobutu, the DRC government has consistently reneged on every agreement it has signed, whether with Rwanda or with Congolese Tutsi rebel groups. Joint military operations were launched time and again, only to be abruptly called off on a whim before achieving their goals. Rebels were integrated, but then posted far from their home regions, leaving the FDLR free to operate as it pleased. Some were even killed by their so-called brothers-in-arms after redeployment.
If its predecessors have been untrustworthy, all indications suggest the current government will be no exception. It protests the repatriation of captured FDLR fighters and their dependents, shamelessly displaying its commitment to this despicable, genocidal outfit. It continues to deploy foreign mercenaries and encourages its militias,dubbed Wazalendo (Patriots),to violate agreed ceasefires. It still portrays the M23 rebels as foreign invaders, even as it engages them in peace talks in Qatar. It has also refused to release political prisoners linked to the AFC/M23 alliance, despite the latter honouring a prisoner exchange by freeing captured FARDC soldiers. Similarly, it has refused to ease the collective punishment inflicted on eastern Congolese by maintaining the freeze on banking transactions in rebel-held areas. This is war crime wilfully ignored by Western rights groups and the UN. Most tellingly, even as it engages in negotiations, Kinshasa continues to call for the disarmament and withdrawal of M23 rebels from captured territory, unrealistic demands swiftly rejected by the rebels. In other words, Kinshasa negotiates as though it holds the upper hand and shows little interest in compromise, even as it puts on a show to the contrary. The drawn-out process in Qatar is further proof of that.
To further complicate matters, there is no guarantee that the United States government has the will, or that it will remain focused on the imperative to ensure that any peace deal is upheld in full. Despite being involved in brokering previous agreements, Western powers, including the US, have subsequently consistently failed to pressure Kinshasa into honouring its commitments.
The way forward
Given the deep mistrust between the parties in conflict and the well-known record of Kinshasa’s unreliability, it may be time for diplomacy to do what it’s meant to do: codify realities on the ground, rather than force those realities into a dysfunctional framework. That is, if the goal of peace deals is to deliver lasting solutions.
If the DRC government cannot be trusted to dismantle a genocidal outfit it openly treats as an ally, then the AFC/M23 is the obvious solution to that dilemma. Since taking control of large swathes of territory, including Goma and Bukavu, North and South Kivu’s most important cities, the AFC/M23 alliance has consistently moved to neutralise the FDLR in the areas under their authority. This is hardly surprising given that the FDLR and its ideology pose an existential threat to Congolese Tutsi. Captured FDLR combatants and their dependants are regularly repatriated to Rwanda. In that sense, the mere presence of AFC/M23 and their administrative control over parts of the Kivus go a long way towards meeting Rwanda’s demand for long-term security guarantees.
Conversely, any attempt to integrate M23 fighters into the Congolese army without granting their political organisation meaningful administrative authority in the areas they control is likely to reproduce the failures of the past. Given the hostile stance the Tshisekedi government has exhibited towards Congo’s Tutsi population, its antagonism towards Kigali, and its undeniable alliance with a genocidal outfit, we would be setting the stage for a predictable failure of the peace deal. And so in the end, the success of the US-brokered peace deal rests heavily on the outcome of the Doha process.
Secondly, a more decentralised governance system is far more likely to address the widespread grievances surrounding the distribution of wealth from resource exploitation. In many mineral-rich regions, Congolese citizens view the central government as an extractive force that shows little interest in investing in public infrastructure or services. A federal framework would bring multiple benefits. For one thing, it would avoid singling out the Kivus as a special case, help pacify other regions that might otherwise be tempted to rebel, and, crucially, preserve the country’s territorial integrity, which has long been challenged by secessionist aspirations.
Finally, beyond facilitating the repatriation of refugees and neutralising the FDLR, placing the Kivus under the administrative and military control of the AFC/M23 echoes a plan initially put forward by President Tshisekedi himself during 14 months of negotiations between the government and the M23 delegation in 2020. At the time, Kinshasa requested the M23 to form four military brigades, two of which would be deployed in North and South Kivu to disarm armed groups operating in the region and pacify the area, while the other two would serve as Tshisekedi’s personal shield against Kabila’s loyalists. Of course, this time, the objective would have nothing to do with Tshisekedi’s personal ambition to consolidate power, but rather with pacifying the region and advancing broader regional integration efforts.
After all, a peaceful Congo is the only morally defensible environment in which to do business. And here we are not talking about the extractive kind, but rather the transformative one that breaks decisively with colonial practices and uplifts ordinary people.
In short, there is a real opportunity to move beyond photo-ops and pursue something lasting and meaningful. But Africans must apply pressure where it counts. We must remain clear-eyed about the fact that failure in Doha could unravel whatever is signed in Washington.
