5 May 2014
“The Central African Republic stands on the brink of genocide; some would say it has already commenced,” said Archbishop Desmond Tutu in April.
He warned that over the past year, the country’s struggles for power and control over its resources, predominantly diamonds, had “degenerated into anarchy, hatred and ethnic cleansing.”
The minority Muslim population have increasingly been targeted by Christian militias since the forced resignation of Michel Djotodia, the country’s first Muslim president, in January. Tens of thousands of Muslims have been forced to flee their homes, into neighbouring Cameroon and Chad.
The United Nations in December estimated 600,000 internally displaced people, and 80,000 refugees from the Central African Republic (CAR) fled to neighbouring states. By last month, Reuters reported that nearly one million people (one fifth of the country’s population) were displaced- either internally or externally.
A genocide is happening in CAR, while the world’s media for the most part seems oblivious. Exactly twenty years since the Rwandan genocide, there is a sense of déjà-vu. Except that in the case of CAR, the victims this time round are Muslims.
The conflict in CAR is not new. For decades, CAR has endured coup after coup, with illegitimate leaders assuming power. This has led to high levels of poverty, mismanagement, corruption and a weak state.
Tensions in the CAR escalated in December 2012 when Seleka, a loose coalition of several armed groups launched an armed offensive against the government of President Francois Bozize. But intervention from the Economic Community of Central African States (ECCAS), of which CAR is a member, prevented Seleka from capturing the capital, Bangui. Government and Seleka leaders, together with civil society and political parties reached a power-sharing agreement in January 2013.
Weeks later, however, Seleka accused Bozize’s government of reneging and launched a coup, this time capturing Bangui in March 2013. Djotodia, the leader of Seleka was sworn in as president of the transition. The International Crisis Group (ICG) reported that although Djotodia had officially dissolved Seleka in September, its “combatants continue to terrorize the country, carrying out arrests and executions, acts of torture, sexual violence and looting”. Amnesty International confirmed that human rights abuses “with almost total impunity” escalated after Seleka came into power.
Seleka, according to ICG, “is carrying out a country-wide criminal operation that has no other motive than personal gain.”
In retaliation, the outraged population formed a self-defence group called anti-balaka (anti-machete). This tit-for-tat strategy has resulted in a spiral towards anarchy.
Although the conflict is political, it has taken on religious tones. The Seleka combatants are perceived to be predominantly Muslim. In reality, neither are all local muslims members of Seleka and the heterogeneous rebel coalition contains high numbers of foreign combatants.
Amnesty International reports that there are large numbers of Chadian elements, and smaller numbers of Sudanese elements within Seleka, and that it is these elements that are primarily responsible for human rights violations. In addition, former violent criminals have also been absorbed into Seleka. While Seleka consisted of 5,000 fighters when they overthrew Bozize in March 2013, the group expanded to 20,000 members by May 2013.
Because Seleka are perceived to be Muslim, anti-balaka militia, mostly Christian, are targeting the local Muslims, in retaliation for the actions of Seleka.
The archbishop of Bangui, Diedonne Nzapalainga, explains, “To non-Muslim locals, Muslim now equals Seleka and Seleka equals Muslim,” who has worked with Muslim religious leaders to facilitate inter-religious tolerance. “We came out early and declared that this conflict was not a religious conflict but a political one.”
“The anti-balaka have nothing to do with the church or Christianity. Calling them a Christian militia is wrong,” said Nzapalainga, who said the ranks of the militia were swollen by people who had lost belongings or loved ones to Seleka.
“To them, it is revenge,” he said.
Transitional authorities have been helpless in restoring law and order in CAR. After pressure from the Economic Community of Central African States (ECCAS), Djotodia stepped down in January. He has been replaced by President Catherine Samba Panza, the first woman leader of CAR.
Events after the toppling of Bozize in March 2013 have simply been trigger factors in this conflict. To view the conflict as religious, would be superficial. Instead, it is the politicisation of religion that has exacerbated violence and atrocities.
To understand the conflict in CAR, requires an analysis of the underlying, structural causes.
While this land-locked country the size of France is rich in diamonds, timber and gold, the benefits of these natural resources have not trickled down to the majority of its people. The country has endured incessant regime changes, each leadership lacking legitimacy.
Mismanagement is rife, public institutions are dysfunctional, with weak state power. While the state control is centralised in Bangui, peripheral regions especially in the north and north-east are outside of state control and subject to alternative power structures.
Aside from these internal factors, geopolitical dynamics cannot be ignored. CAR is situated in a conflict-torn region. Surrounded by countries including Sudan, South Sudan, Chad and the Democratic Republic of Congo, there is a plethora of ex-soldiers, mercenaries, armed groups and small arms that easily cross over uncontrolled, porous borders. This has facilitated the emergence of the rebel coalitions in CAR.
The situation in CAR is the result of a total breakdown of the rule of law and respect for human rights. Instead, near anarchy and impunity now exist.
As South Africa celebrates two decades since the end of apartheid, crimes against humanity are taking place just 4,000km to our north. We have a collective responsibility to protect the people of CAR regardless of their religious affiliation.
If not, what have we learnt, twenty years after the Rwandan genocide?