When the presidents of Rwanda and South Africa met in Abidjan during the Africa CEO Forum, many anticipated some political fireworks, as Ramaphosa himself jokingly pointed out during one of his submissions. And why not? Africans are often curious about the candid, unscripted exchanges that happen behind closed doors, where diplomatic niceties are cast aside and real tensions rise to the surface. But such frank moments are rarely displayed in public, with good reason.
Still, for seasoned observers of Rwanda–South Africa relations and politics in the Great Lakes region, the encounter was telling. It brought into sharp relief the contrasting styles of the two leaders: one, a military man who speaks plainly, lives by his convictions, and is prepared to defend them if need be; the other, a consummate politician who adapts his message to the mood in the room. Personally, I would rather engage with the former. Ramaphosa’s brand of polished, two-faced politics is one reason why some conflicts in Africa fester unresolved. Why do I say this?
Back in 2021, when the foreign ministers of both countries met and pledged to move past old grievances, there was a glimmer of hope that relations would improve, even as there was plenty to unpack.
On Rwanda’s side, there was long-standing frustration with what Kigali viewed as South Africa’s provocations during Jacob Zuma’s tenure. South Africa repeatedly refused to extradite genocide fugitives, an act denounced by the ICTR’s chief prosecutor, Serge Brammertz. The country also gave sanctuary to exiled, former Rwandan security officials who founded the Rwanda National Congress (RNC) and went on to establish an armed group with bases in the DRC, with the intention of overthrowing Rwanda’s government.
In 2012, South Africa and Tanzania, both contributors to the UN’s Force Intervention Brigade (FIB), helped eject the M23 rebels out of eastern DRC but then refused to take action against the FDLR, a militia whose founders and leaders had participated in the planning and execution of the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi. Observers could not help but notice the cosy ties among Patrick Karegeya, Rwanda’s former chief of external intelligence, Jakaya Kikwete, President of Tanzania at the time, and South Africa’s Jacob Zuma. The three men had deep backgrounds in intelligence; they were also linked by intersecting business interests in eastern DRC and Karegeya’s personal grudge against Rwanda’s leadership. It was hardly shocking to uninformed non-Rwandans that Karegeya’s RNC joined forces with the FDLR under a coalition they named P5. The UN was aware of these developments, yet for some strange reason no questions were asked when its Force Intervention Brigade, comprising South African and Tanzanian troops, chose to target only the M23 while turning a blind eye to the FDLR. To Kigali, South Africa was not just a haven for genocide fugitives; it had become an enabler of armed groups threatening Rwanda’s national security.
South Africa, on the other hand, had a singular gripe: it accused Rwanda of targeting political dissidents on its soil. Would the same accusations be levelled at Russia, the US or China if defectors from their security services sought refuge in Pretoria and claimed to be fighting for some political cause back home? Following Karegeya’s death and other violent incidents involving another Rwandan exile in South Africa, Kayumba Nyamwasa, South Africa reacted by restricting the entry of Rwandan passport holders. Pretoria also expelled Rwandan diplomats, prompting a tit-for-tat response from Kigali.
The year 2021, following Ramaphosa’s accession to power, brought a measure of hope that the tensions might end. Four years on, however, nothing has shifted. As President Kagame remarked during the CEO Forum, African leaders are failing to follow through on their own agreements. This is a recurring frustration for him. Although he was speaking broadly about AU and regional processes, his words ring just as true for the impasse between his country and South Africa.
Worse still, South Africa appears to have doubled down. In 2023 it formally joined a coalition that includes the FDLR, posing a direct threat to Rwanda’s security. Pretoria also lent its support to Congo’s government led by a man who publicly vowed to overthrow the government of Rwanda. The presence of heavy South African military hardware near Rwanda’s border did little to allay suspicions. It simply reinforced the belief that the intervention’s real target was not the M23, but Rwanda itself.
To make matters worse, Kayumba Nyamwasa resurfaced in South African media, justifying Pretoria’s intervention. And that, coincidentally, happened just as Ramaphosa’s military adventure in the DRC came under domestic scrutiny. For many observers, the timing felt rather convenient.
Many have taken comfort in the recent cordial exchange between the two leaders. But one would be naïve to overlook three key traits of Ramaphosa’s character.
First, Ramaphosa has consistently tried to cast South African troops under SAMIDRC as neutral peacekeepers, despite their clear offensive mandate.
Second, while he personally attended the 30th commemoration of the Genocide against the Tutsi in April 2024 and publicly declared there was no military solution to the DRC crisis and pledged to support dialogue between Kinshasa and the M23, his forces continued to attack the rebels in concert with the FDLR until the fall of Goma.
Third, although Ramaphosa has insisted that SADC’s troop withdrawal was meant to pave the way for peace, South Africa was in fact the lone voice within the southern regional bloc opposing the pullout. He even proposed to increase the SAMIDRC mission’s budget. Tellingly and curiously, he had not shown similar willingness to fund SADC’s military mission in Mozambique.
In the region, particularly among M23 leaders, there is deep scepticism about the real aim of South Africa’s secretive deployments in Katanga, in the DRC’s south. Many suspect a long term objective to retake Goma and Bukavu. An attempted deal between M23 and SADC to jointly rehabilitate Goma International Airport collapsed following armed attacks around North Kivu’s capital. The M23 demanded the immediate withdrawal of SAMIDRC troops, accusing them of having played a role in planning the attacks.
If there’s one lesson the M23 rebels have grasped that we all might heed, it is this: Ramaphosa is not a man whose word should be taken at face value. Clearly, the road to normalization of relations between Rwanda and South Africa can only be a long-winding one.
