In a country where political opponents and outspoken critics of President Paul Kagame have a tendency to turn up dead or disappear, the official explanation of the death of a popular Rwandan gospel singer last week was immediately met with skepticism. The singer, Kizito Mihigo, had been arrested at the border earlier this month for allegedly trying to flee the country illegally and join armed rebels in neighboring Burundi. Three days later, he was found dead in his cell; the police say he committed suicide.
Some of Mihigo’s songs run counter to the government’s preferred narrative about the Rwandan genocide, and he had previously spent four years in jail on charges of inciting hatred and trying to assassinate Kagame before being pardoned in 2018. After his death, outside observers suspected foul play or at least negligence on the part of authorities, while human rights groups called for a thorough and swift investigation.
The precise circumstances surrounding Mihigo’s death may never be known. But whatever the cause, the episode underscores how much trust and legitimacy Rwanda’s government has lost under Kagame recently. Twenty-six years after the genocide that killed an estimated 800,000 people, most of them from the ethnic Tutsi minority, the turnaround overseen by Kagame no longer looks as simple as it is often made out to be. The official line, that poverty is down while health and education indicators are up, has begun to unravel. It is getting harder and harder for Kagame to deny those critical voices who argue that the peace and development that emerged from the ashes of genocide might have been significantly exaggerated—and have come at the expense of harsh repression by his government.
On its face, Kagame’s narrative is powerful. Just a generation after the genocide, and despite being a small and landlocked country, Rwanda is a darling of development banks and aid donors. Kagame has been praised by Western luminaries including Bill Gates and Bill Clinton. The government has worked to build its reputation and global connections, an effort best symbolized by the gleaming new $300 million convention center in downtown Kigali, the capital.
It is also taking measures to integrate Rwanda into the regional and global economy. In December, the government declared that all primary schools would begin teaching students in English, bringing the country closer to the predominantly Anglophone East African Community, of which it is a member, as well as the English-speaking global market. Despite having never been a British colony, Rwanda joined the Commonwealth a decade ago, and in June will host a meeting for all Commonwealth heads of government.
On its surface, advancing the population’s English skills makes good economic sense. But many Rwandan schoolteachers cannot speak English, particularly in rural parts of the country, where Kinyarwanda is the dominant tongue. Critics point out that elevating English largely benefits wealthy and urban children who are more likely to have access to fluent English-speakers, as well as members of the ruling party, the Rwandan Patriotic Front, or RPF, and other former exiles who lived in neighboring Uganda before the genocide.
There is also solid evidence that casts doubt on the government’s official metrics. Academics and outside analysts have questioned Rwanda’s development claims in recent years, pointing out methodological issues that could result in an artificially rosy picture of its growth rate and poverty reduction. A Financial Times investigation last year found further evidence that Kagame’s government had cooked the books. Rwanda and the World Bank have rejected those findings, yet there is rising public criticism for some of the government’s signature policies, including a sweeping, top-down rural development initiative that has been criticized for imposing rigid requirements on agricultural producers.
The continued silencing, deaths and disappearances of Kagame’s few remaining political opponents in Rwanda suggest that he has dug in his heels.
“It is a problem for the government in as far as it has now formed this image outside Rwanda that Rwanda fakes its statistics,” says Frederick Golooba-Mutebi, a political analyst who focuses on the Great Lakes region and has a favorable view of Kagame’s track record. The debate, he says, provides rhetorical ammunition to anyone already disposed to criticize the country’s policies.
Meanwhile, the continued silencing, deaths and disappearances of Kagame’s few remaining political opponents in Rwanda suggest that he has dug in his heels. Despite regular elections, state institutions have more or less been run by the RPF ever since its armed wing marched in from Uganda and halted the genocide. During Kagame’s last reelection in 2017, he was reported to have won with 99 percent of the vote.
The list of serious political opponents is thin, and almost all of them have spent some time in jail or under government intimidation. Diane Rwigara, a government critic and daughter of an RPF financier who died in a suspicious car crash in 2015, was declared ineligible to run against Kagame in 2017 and later imprisoned on charges of forgery and inciting insurrection. She was acquitted in 2018.
Victoire Ingabire’s attempt to challenge Kagame’s RPF by uniting the political opposition was similarly thwarted. She was jailed in 2013 on charges of participating in a terrorist conspiracy and downplaying the genocide. Five years later, she received a presidential pardon and was released along with hundreds of others. But other members of Ingabire’s unregistered political party, the FDU-Inkingi coalition, have come to grisly ends. The party’s national coordinator, Sylidio Dusabumuremyi, was stabbed to death at his workplace by unidentified assailants last year. Earlier, the body of one of Ingabire’s aides, Anselme Mutuyimana, was found on the edge of a forest after he went missing. Another party member, Eugene Ndereyimana, has been reported missing since July. In January, six other FDU-Inkingi members received stiff jail sentences for conspiring against the government.
Kagame’s government continually invokes fears of security threats to justify its heavy hand. There is reason for a strong security apparatus. Armed rebels along Rwanda’s borders occasionally carry out attacks and kill civilians. Ongoing tensions with neighboring countries raise the specter of broader violence and already have created economic hardships for small-scale traders.
Yet for a small nation of just 12 million people, Rwanda’s government has an exceedingly long arm. Australia’s public broadcaster has uncovered a network of Rwandan spies living in suburban communities there. In October, Radio Canada reported on a Rwandan university student who underwent basic espionage training at the Gako military camp, east of Kigali, and was ordered to spy on a Rwandan man in Quebec. And former intelligence chief Patrick Karegeya, a Kagame aide-turned-foe, was found dead in a South African hotel room in 2014. An extradition request has been filed for two suspects who are believed to live in Rwanda.
The recent death of Mihigo, the gospel singer, adds to the clouds already hanging over Kagame’s government. But the mounting criticism over human rights abuses has so far done little to challenge the president’s power. He has solidified his standing by preventing the rise of potential rivals and frequently moves officials from position to position throughout the government and military, most recently with a Cabinet reshuffle in November.
“Kagame is the power holder,” says Susan Thomson, a Colgate University professor who has written a book about Rwanda since the genocide. The people around him are kept in check through either fear or loyalty, she says, “and he circulates elites in such a way that everybody is kept on their toes.”
Kagame’s not going away any time soon. A 2015 referendum amended presidential term limits and gave the 62-year-old a pathway to theoretically continue in office until 2034. But for a leader who received 99 percent of the vote last time, and who has silenced nearly all remaining opponents, it’s hard to see who else he will need to convince.
Julian Hattem is an American journalist who focuses on international affairs. He has written for The Washington Post, The Guardian, Roads & Kingdoms and The Atlantic, among other outlets. Previously, he spent several years in Washington, D.C., most recently covering national security and foreign policy for The Hill. You can follow him on Twitter at @jmhattem.
https://www.worldpoliticsreview.com/articles/28560/in-rwanda-kagame-is-silencing-dissent-at-the-cost-of-his-own-credibility