THE CREATION OF

ETHNIC DIVISION IN RWANDA

by Pamphile Sebahara

Ethnic conflicts continue to ravage Central Africa, taking an ever greater toll of human life. Prevention programmes need to establish mechanisms for anticipating future conflicts and to manage those already in progress as effectively as possible, with a view to restoring peace. Understanding the stakes and the process leading to the outbreak of conflict is fundamental, since it enables us to learn from the past and break the cycle of violence. Every case is different and therefore much needs to be done to develop methodological approaches capable of guiding researchers and practitioners as they seek to identify the factors that lead violence. This article suggests a sociological approach to ethnicity, taking as its basis the ethnic divisions in Rwanda.

The genocide of the Tutsis and the massacres that claimed almost one million lives in Rwanda between April and July 1994 are the result of a variety of interdependent factors. Reading the literature on the subject, we are left with one basic question: how can we comprehend the mass slaughter of men, women and children, primarily as a result of their belonging to a particular ethnic group? Observers believe that the genocide and its consequences, which still reverberate today, are to be understood in the context of the ethnic conflict between Hutu and Tutsi, which has been a feature of Rwanda's history since the late 1950s. Hence the idea that the ethnic divide between Rwandan Hutu, Tutsi and Twa is the result of an historical process in the course of which these peoples have come to internalize their ethnic background. I shall be looking at the way in which an ethnic vision has become an issue for the Rwandans and the way in which ethnicity has become a dividing factor—not necessarily a source of conflict—in their social life. This approach shows that there is nothing inevitable or coincidental about ethnic division. On the contrary, it results from the strategic moves of protagonists acting in the context of a given space and time. The aim is not to determine which of the protagonists is responsible, but to give an account of the facts with a view to guiding future action.

From Social to Ethnic Categories

The history of pre-colonial Rwanda, passed down through oral tradition, gives no clear indication as to when the country was first populated. The lack of consensus in interpreting certain information about Rwanda owes much to the high political stakes that are involved (Uvin, 1997; Guichaoua, 1995). This is one factor underpinning the construction of ethnic division. Certain facts, however, have been established.

Before colonization, toward the end of the 19th century, most of what is now Rwanda was a monarchy ruled by a king of the Nyiginya dynasty. Social stratification was based on socio-economic criteria; in other words, on the type of work favoured by the members of the group. Thus the Hutus tended to be farmers, the Tutsis were stockbreeders and the Twa were hunters or potters. But given the complex ancestral history, these were by no means exclusive categories. The Tutsis were not necessarily dominant, nor the Hutus their subjects. At any rate, "though pre-colonial Rwandan society was intensely stratified, it was not completely 'determined' by hard and fast statutory identifications" (Willame, 1995). Ethnic groups were not created out of thin air, however. There were morphotypical and socio-economic differences between the members of the different groups (but then are not all individuals different?!). The main thing is to see how these differences are socially influenced and the meaning people ascribe to them. More specifically, it would seem that the earliest explorers misinterpreted the stratification they saw on the ground in terms of ethnicity. Based on their own definition of this concept, their actions reinforced the existing divisions. Indeed, it was the colonizers who first used the term ethnie (ethnic group) to refer to the Hutus, Tutsis and Twas at the beginning of this century. Etymologically, this term derives from the Greek ethnos, meaning people or nation. It entered the French language in 1896. Its standard definition postulates "a language, an area, customs, values, a name, a shared lineage and an awareness on the part of its members that they belong to the same group" (Amselle and M'Bokolo, 1985). According to this definition, then, the ethnic group is a fixed entity. Conceiving of the Hutus, Tutsis and Twas in this way as ethnic groups—that is to say as different peoples—the colonial powers shaped their policies accordingly. In time, this led individuals to believe that there were real differences between them. If people believe something to be real, then the consequences of that belief are real enough! How can we explain this process?

Colonization brought with it more uniform social relations and "a precisely defined hierarchy from colonizer to Tutsi to Hutu to Twa, each successive rung enjoying privileges denied to those of the level below" (Uvin, 1997). Inspired by reports from explorers and missionaries describing the Tutsis as "the most intelligent," the colonial rulers gave Tutsis priority when granting these privileges (education or administrative jobs, for example). They also established a system of strict ethnic classification, backed up by compulsory identity cards specifying the holder's ethnic group. These cards stating ethnic origin had still not been abolished by the post-colonial powers as late as 1994: they were to play an important part in identifying victims of the genocide. History books written at the time confirm "scientifically" the dissimilarity of the three ethnic groups. There is no doubt that these text books, used in every school, were fundamental to the inculcation of "ethnic consciousness." Thus by the time of decolonization, at least 50 years of myths and practices pertaining to these myths had created an atmosphere of division and an ideology that were to form the basis for instability in the post-colonial era.

A Cycle of Ethnic Violence

At the end of the 1950s, there came a sudden change. In the trend toward decolonization, the trustee powers decided to give up their support of the Tutsi monarchy in order to indulge the demands of a few Hutu elite who were calling for the rulers to be overthrown. It all began in March 1957 with publication of the Bahutu Manifesto, highlighting what it called "the social aspect of the racial problem" and demanding "reforms in favour of the Muhutu population subjected to the 'Hamite monopoly on other races which had inhabited the country earlier and in greater numbers'" (Willame, 1995). Its ideas on the ethnicisation of social relations were spread abroad to Europeans through the local press. Outbreaks of ethnic violence followed in several parts of the country. In 1958-1959, there were pogroms in a number of provinces. Hundreds of Tutsis were killed and larger numbers went into exile. General elections in 1960-1961 resulted in victory for the PARMEHUTU (Hutu Emancipation Party), followed by replacement of the monarchy with a presidential system. Between 1961 and 1967 the Tutsi refugees would try to return by military force, launching small-scale guerrilla attacks from Burundi and Uganda. "These attacks were easily repelled, but they led to the mass slaughter of innocent Tutsi civilians. In total, 300,000 Tutsis were massacred, and more than 100,000 left the country" (Uvin, 1997). The advent of the first republic, which lasted from 1962-1973, did not put an end to the bloodshed—quite the opposite, in fact. This republic kept up the discriminatory policies begun under Belgian colonization, for it was based on the ideology of (ethnic) "social revolution," which maintained that Rwanda belonged to the Hutus, its "rightful" inhabitants (since they had arrived in the country first) as opposed to the Tutsis, who were "foreigners" (since they had arrived later). The government eliminated practically all the former Tutsi politicians, but also politicians of the Hutu opposition who did not join PARMEHUTU. By 1965 it had become, de facto and de jure, the only authorized party.

Ethnic violence would erupt again in 1972-1973. Tutsis were driven out of the schools and from public office (Vidal, 1991). Some were killed but many more went into exile. The Habyarimana government (1973-1994) pursued a policy of discrimination against the Tutsis. They were all but excluded from the army, the diplomatic service and Parliament. A system of ethnic quotas was set up with the aim of limiting their access to secondary and higher education as well as to the public sector. No amendment was made to the identity card system. The refugees were categorically refused re-entry in the 1960s and 1970s on the pretext that there was no room left in Rwanda. The Second Republic justified itself on the grounds of its defence of the "achievements of the revolution" of 1959 and of the developmentalist ideology, enabling it to conceal unresolved socio-political problems behind the lure of modernization (construction of public infrastructures and roads).

Here we touch on "the paradox of Rwandan society" (Chrétien, 1995) which lies in the existence of keenly felt ethnic splits in spite of remarkable cultural unity. Every observer wonders what led a country, considered at the time as a model of development in Africa, to self-destruct in less than three months. In fact, the Rwandan system has operated on two different levels and with two different languages. On the one hand, it has institutionalized discrimination through ethnic and regional quotas, and on the other it has engaged in a developmentalist discourse emphasizing peace and unity—a duality to which the state symbols bear witness. The single party, called the National Revolutionary Movement for Development (MRND), had as its motto "peace, unity and development;" while the Parliament's title was the National Development Council (CNaD).

By 1990, the Habyarimana regime had been weakened by a number of factors such as economic and financial crisis, attacks by the Rwandan Patriotic Front, and demands for democracy from an elite no longer prepared to tolerate the widespread corruption and growing regionalism. To revitalize its flagging popularity, it placed fresh emphasis on the question of ethnicity. I shall not enlarge upon the various events of the 1990-1994 period; suffice it to say that ethnic violence took centre stage during this time. Almost 10,000 Tutsis were imprisoned without charge in October 1990—they would be freed again a few months later as a result of pressure from the international community. Speeches calling for the Tutsis to be murdered along with those opposed to the ethnist policies were broadcast in the media, and these killings were actually carried out in some villages. While "ethnism" cannot account for the sheer scale of the 1994 genocide, the various factors described indicate that the time was certainly ripe for the eruption of ethnic violence. In 1994, "ethnic difference was considered to be an accepted fact in Rwanda, both at the level of official policy and of personal feeling" (Uvin, 1997). Nevertheless in everyday life, people still spoke to one another and mixed marriages existed. In short, it would seem that the role of the state was fundamental in the construction of ethnic division. The culture of impunity, which it had encouraged since independence, served only to reinforce the feeling of fear and suspicion between Rwandans. How can this vicious circle of violence be broken?

Demystifying Ethnic Groups

The answer lies with all the protagonists involved in this issue. One path would be to demystify the concept of ethnic groups, to make the debate on ethnic questions and the prejudices underpinning them less loaded. For could it not be said, after all, that ethnic identity is just one of the many identities (professional, national, etc.) that every individual has? We need to focus on the important questions, such as efficient running of the country. If every citizen had the same rights and duties then ethnic or regional problems would not arise, either in Rwanda or elsewhere. However, society cannot be changed by decree. From now on we must look after the present, learning from the past in order to prepare for the future—a long process, which requires a great deal of effort and goodwill.

Learning the Lessons

In terms of conflict prevention, three lessons can be drawn from the preceding analysis. First, the factors leading to violence are set up in the course of what may be a very long process. Consequently, historical and sociological research enabling us to anticipate these is necessary, but we also need to use this information as wisely as possible (something that Rwanda failed to do). Second, when it comes to the management of conflict, we must recognize the key role of the state as regulator of society at the national level. Preventive strategies must take this into account. Finally, conflicts already in existence can only be resolved if all the parties involved (the state, organizations and individuals) work together according to a constructive rationale, that is to say one that can recognize the mistakes of the past—deliberate or otherwise—in order to start afresh. These are the challenges facing us at the dawn of the new millennium.

References

Amselle, J.L. and E. M'Bokolo, eds. (1985). Au coeur de l'ethnie, Paris, La Découverte.

Chrétien, J.P. (1995). Rwanda, les médias du génocide, Paris, Karthala.

Guichaoua, A., ed. (1995). Les crises politiques au Burundi et au Rwanda—1993-1994, Lille, U.S.T.

Joint Evaluation of Emergency Assistance to Rwanda (1996). The International Response to Conflict and Genocide: Lessons from the Rwanda Experience (five volumes), Copenhagen, Joint Evaluation of Emergency Assistance to Rwanda.

Poutignat, P. and J. Streiff-Fenart (1995). Théories de l'ethnicité, Paris, PUF.

Uvin, P. (1997). Development, Aid and Conflict: Reflections Based on the Case of Rwanda, Helsinki, World Institute for Development Economics Research.

Vidal, C. (1991). Sociologie des passions—Côte d'Ivoire, Rwanda, Paris, Karthala.

Willame, J.-C. (1995). Aux sources de l'hécatombe rwandaise, Brussels-Paris, L'Harmattan.

This article previously appeared in The Courier: Africa—Caribbean—Pacific—European Union, published in April 1998 by the Commission of the European Communities, based in Belgium.