Ruanda

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Der afrikanische Staat Ruanda, mit 11 Millionen Einwohnern auf ca. 26.000 qkm (entsprechend Rheinland-Pfalz plus Saarland) das Land mit der höchsten Bevölkerungsdichte des Kontinents, war 1994 Schauplatz eines von der Weltöffentlichkeit passiv miterlebten Genozids, bei dem binnen weniger Monate 800.000 (oder bis zu einer Million) Menschen umgebracht wurden. Zur Aufarbeitung des Geschehens wurde der Internationale Strafgerichtshof für Ruanda in Arusha (Tansania) eingerichtet. In Ruanda selbst spielt die Gacaca-Justiz ein erhebliche Rolle.

Ruanda wird von den Tutsi (Viehzüchtertradition), den Hutu (Ackerbautradition) und den zu den Pygmäenethnien gezählten Batwa (Jäger- und Sammlertradition; Töpfer) bewohnt. Am stärksten benachteiligt ist traditionell die kleine Gruppe der Batwa: während im Landesdurchschnitt knapp 60% der Haushalte über genügend Land zur Selbstversorgung verfügen (0,7 ha), ist dies bei den Batwa nur bei 1,5% der Fall. Bis 1959 und seit 1994 besteht die gesellschaftlich und politisch maßgebliche Schicht zum größten Teil aus Angehörigen der Tutsi, zu denen auch der seit 1994 amtierende Präsident Paul Kagame gehört. Seit 1994 wird das Land autokratisch regiert. Die Pressefreiheit ist eingeschränkt: "Erst 2011 wurden laut der Organisation Reporter ohne Grenzen zwei ruandische Journalistinnen zu langen Freiheitsstrafen verurteilt, weil sie den Präsidenten kritisiert hatten. Wer dort eine Zeitung oder einen Sender gründen will, muss hohe Gebühren entrichten, 41.000 Euro sind es für eine neue Zeitung - auch ein Weg, die Medienvielfalt einzuschränken. Und so zählt Reporter ohne Grenzen Kagame zu den Feinden der Pressefreiheit. Sein Land steht auf der Liste der 178 Länder, die am meisten Pressefreiheit gewährleisten, nur auf Platz 169" (Raab 2011). Die Regierung proklamiert den Vorrang der ruandischen Identität vor der ethnischen Zugehörigkeit und den Vorrang der wirtschaftlichen Entwicklung vor der Demokratie. Meinungsfreiheit und Recht der Opposition sind stark eingeschränkt.

Geschichte

Twa-Besiedlung (8000-3000 v.Chr.). Zwischen 700 vor und 1500 n.Chr. kamen verschiedene Bantu-Gruppen nach Ruanda und begannen mit Ackerbau. Die Waldbewohner Twa verloren viel Lebensraum. Nach einer Theorie waren Hutu die ersten Migranten, efolgt von den Tutsi; nach einer anderen Theorie entstand die Hutu-Tutsi-Differenzierung als soziale Schichtung und war ein post-migratorisches soziales Phänomen. Nach der Zeit der Clans (ubwoko) entstanden um 1700 acht Königreiche, "governed with strict social control." Das Königreich Ruanda nahm allmählich eine Vormachtstellung ein (Herrscher: der Tutsi Nyiginya clan). From its origins as a small toparchy near Lake Muhazi, the kingdom expanded through a process of conquest and assimilation, achieving its greatest extent under the reign of King Kigeli Rwabugiri from 1853–95. Rwabugiri expanded the kingdom west and north, and initiated administrative reforms; these included ubuhake, in which Tutsi patrons ceded cattle, and therefore privileged status, to Hutu or Tutsi clients in exchange for economic and personal service, and uburetwa, a corvée system in which Hutu were forced to work for Tutsi chiefs. Rwabugiri's changes caused a rift to grow between the Hutu and Tutsi populations. The Berlin Conference of 1884 assigned the territory to Germany, but with the boundaries not precisely defined. When explorer Gustav Adolf von Götzen explored the country in 1894, he discovered that the Kingdom of Rwanda included a fertile region to the east of Lake Kivu. Germany wanted this region, but it was also claimed by Leopold II as part of the Belgian Congo. To justify its claim, Germany began a policy of ruling through the Rwandan monarchy, and supporting Tutsi chiefs around the country; this system had the added benefit of enabling colonisation with small European troop numbers. Yuhi V Musinga, who emerged as king following a succession crisis caused by death of his father Rwabugiri, and had also endured fighting with Belgian troops, welcomed the Germans and used them to strengthen his rule. German rule thus allowed Rwabugiri's centralistion policy to continue, while the rift between Tutsi and Hutu grew wider. Belgian forces took control of Rwanda and Burundi during World War I, and the country was formally passed to Belgian control by a League of Nations mandate in 1919. Belgium initially continued the German style of governing through the monarchy, but from 1926 began a policy of more direct colonial rule. The reforms included simplifying the complex chieftaincy system so that one chief, usually a Tutsi, controlled all aspects of rule for a local area rather than the previous three, who were typically split between Tutsi and Hutu. Belgian reforms also extended uburetwa to apply to individuals rather than whole communities, and spread it to regions not previously covered by the system. Simultaneously, the Tutsi chiefs began a process of land reform, with Belgian support. Grazing areas traditionally under the control of Hutu collectives were seized by Tutsi and privatised, with minimal compensation. From the late 1920s, the Catholic Church became increasingly important in Rwanda. The Belgian government encouraged this, as the priests knew the country well and made administration easier. A large number of Rwandans, including elite Tutsi, became Catholics, as this was increasingly a prerequisite for social advancement. King Musinga refused to convert, and in 1931 was deposed by the Belgian administration; his eldest son, Mutara III Rudahigwa, succeeded him and eventually became the country's first Christian king. In the 1930s, the Belgians introduced large-scale projects in education, health, public works, and agricultural supervision, including new crops and improved agricultural techniques to try to reduce the incidence of famine. The country had been modernised but Tutsi supremacy remained, leaving the Hutu disenfranchised and subject to large scale forced labour. In 1935, Belgium introduced identity cards labelling each individual as either Tutsi, Hutu, Twa or Naturalised. While it had previously been possible for particularly wealthy Hutu to become honorary Tutsi, the identity cards prevented any further movement between the classes. Belgium continued to rule Rwanda as a UN Trust Territory after World War II, with a mandate to oversee independence.The economic landscape had changed considerably during the war, including growth of the cash economy[36] and economic opportunities in neighbouring countries, for example demand for labourers in the Congolese mines of Katanga, and in the coffee and sugar plantations of Uganda. Simultaneously, there was a shift in the sympathies of the Catholic Church. Prominent figures in the early Rwandan church such as Léon-Paul Classe, who were from a wealthy and conservative background, were replaced by younger clergy of working-class origin, with a greater proportion of Flemish rather than French speaking Belgians, who sympathised with the plight of the Hutu. The economic conditions, and seminarial education provided by the church allowed the Hutu a social mobility not previously possible, which in turn led to the development of an elite group of Hutu leaders and intellectuals. This elite, consisting of Hutu derived from the precolonial Kingdom of Rwanda, was joined by prominent citizens of kingdoms acquired during colonialism, including the Kiga people. The most prominent figure in the movement was Grégoire Kayibanda. Like most of the Hutu counter-elite, Kayibanda had trained for the priesthood at Nyakibanda seminary, although he was never ordained. On completion of his education in 1948 he became a primary school teacher, and from 1952 edited Catholic magazine L'Ami, taking over from Alexis Kagame. In the late 1950s, Kayibanda sat on the board of the Travail, Fidélité, Progrès (TRAFIPRO) food cooperative, edited the pro-Hutu Catholic magazine Kinyamateka, and founded the Mouvement Social Muhutu (MSM), which later became the Parti du Mouvement de l'Emancipation Hutu (PARMEHUTU). The second major figure in the Hutu elite was Joseph Gitera, whose base was in the south of the country. He was also an ex-seminarian, and founder of the Association pour la Promotion Sociale de la Masse (APROSOMA) party. Religious historians Ian and Jane Linden described Gitera as "more passionate and perhaps compassionate" than Kayibanda and other Hutu ex-seminarians, but also described him as "often erratic and sometimes fanatical". The monarchy and prominent Tutsi, which had always assumed that power would be transferred to them on independence, sensed the growing influence of the Hutu and began to agitate for immediate independence. They formed their own party, the Union Nationale Rwandaise (UNAR), which was pro-monarchy and also anti-Belgian, a stance which earned them backing from the Communist bloc

In explaining the sudden surfacing of Hutu-Tutsi language in Rwanda’s ecclesial and public discourse, Rwanda’s U.N.-mandated 1956 legislative elections emerge as a retrospective turning point. Although Hutu candidates won two-thirds of the elected seats on Rwanda’s local subcouncils, very few were chosen to serve on the appointed higher councils. In fact, Tutsi elites continued to fill 81 percent of Rwanda’s territorial council seats, 57 percent of positions in the colonial administration, and thirty-one of the thirty-two seats on Rwanda’s national Superior Council. In particular, Tutsi members of Rwanda’s Abanyiginya and Abega clans—the two clans that had traditionally dominated Rwanda’s nobility—controlled 50 percent of Rwanda’s subchiefdoms and 80 percent of its chiefdoms (Rutayasire 2004, 47). Looking to accelerate the timetable for independence, Rwanda’s Tutsi-dominated Superior Council issued a postelection Mise au point (statement of views) in February 1957 that called for continued devolution of political power and denied the existence of political or social discrepancies between Hutu and Tutsi (Murego 1975, 754-757).

In response, nine Hutu intellectuals released the Bahutu Manifesto in March 1957I. This was the first document to label the Tutsi and Hutu as separate races, and called for the transfer of power from Tutsi to Hutu based on what it termed "statistical law".

Nach der allmählichen Einwanderung der Bantu sprechenden und Ackerbau betreibenden Hutu (um das Jahr 1000 n.Chr.) in das Gebiet des heutigen Ruanda, das damals nur von Batwa bewohnt war, kamen einige Jahrhunderte später die Tutsi, die Rinder züchteten und Eisen herstellen konnten. Die Waldgebiete, in denen die Batwa wohnten, wurden zugunsten des Ackerbaus der Hutus und der Viehzucht der Tutsi allmählich gerodet. Da Ruanda die arabischen und europäischen Sklavenjagden vermeiden konnte, war der Zuzug von Einwohnern beachtlich - zumal örtliche Machthaber aus der Größe ihrer Klientel weitere Macht und Einkommen ableiten konnten. Die Bevölkerung nahm allein zwischen den 1940er und 1980er Jahren von einer auf sieben Millionen zu. Während der Kolonialzeit (1895-1916: deutsche Kolonie; danach belgisches Treuhandgebiet) wurde Grundbesitz der örtlichen Machthaber aufgeteilt und seit den 1960er Jahren ermutigte die Regierungspolitik die Bauern, ihr Ackerland zu Lasten des Weidelandes, der Feuchtgebiete und Wälder auszudehnen. Die vorher entspannte Situation - zwischen den Tutsi und den Hutu hatten sich feudale Abhängigkeits- und Kooperationsstrukturen entwickelt, was auch zu einer gewissen Verwischung der ethnischen Grenzen geführt hatte - spitzte sich zu. Als Ruanda sich der Unabhängigkeit näherte, war die soziale Situation gespannt.

Ruandische Revolution

Die Ruandische Revolution von 1959-1961 war auch bekannt als the Wind of Destruction (Kinyarwanda: muyaga) und ging der Unabhängigkeit von Belgien (1.7.1962) voraus.

Hier eine Kurzfassung der Informationen aus der en.wikipedia zu dem Thema:

After years of tension violence began in November 1959, following the beating up of a Hutu politician, Dominique Mbonyumutwa by Tutsi forces. Believing Mbonyumutwa to have been killed, groups of Hutus began systematic assaults on the Tutsi. It upended the power structure of Rwanda by dissolving the monarchy, which was headed by a Tutsi mwami, in favor of a Hutu-led republic. Tutsi chiefs and vice-chiefs were replaced by Hutus. Many Tutsi civilians were killed in the revolution, which was the nation's first ethnically-based conflict, while others fled to semi-permanent refugee settlements in neighboring countries. In 1965, 130,000 (one third of all Tutsis) lived in exile in Zaire, Uganda, Tanzania and Burundi. These exile communities later gave rise to Tutsi rebel movements, one of which was the RPF.

An estimated 20,000 to 100,000 Tutsis were killed and many thousands more, including the Mwami, fled to neighboring Uganda before Belgian commandos arrived to quell the violence. Several Belgians were subsequently accused by Tutsi leaders of abetting the Hutus in the violence. The report of a United Nations special commission reported racism reminiscent of "Nazism against the Tutsi minorities" that had been engineered by the government and Belgian authorities.

Belgium continued to rule Rwanda as a UN Trust Territory after World War II, with a mandate to oversee independence.The economic landscape had changed considerably during the war, including growth of the cash economy[36] and economic opportunities in neighbouring countries, for example demand for labourers in the Congolese mines of Katanga, and in the coffee and sugar plantations of Uganda. Simultaneously, there was a shift in the sympathies of the Catholic Church. Prominent figures in the early Rwandan church such as Léon-Paul Classe, who were from a wealthy and conservative background, were replaced by younger clergy of working-class origin, with a greater proportion of Flemish rather than French speaking Belgians, who sympathised with the plight of the Hutu. The economic conditions, and seminarial education provided by the church allowed the Hutu a social mobility not previously possible, which in turn led to the development of an elite group of Hutu leaders and intellectuals. This elite, consisting of Hutu derived from the precolonial Kingdom of Rwanda, was joined by prominent citizens of kingdoms acquired during colonialism, including the Kiga people.

The most prominent figure in the movement was Grégoire Kayibanda. Like most of the Hutu counter-elite, Kayibanda had trained for the priesthood at Nyakibanda seminary, although he was never ordained. On completion of his education in 1948 he became a primary school teacher, and from 1952 edited Catholic magazine L'Ami, taking over from Alexis Kagame. In the late 1950s, Kayibanda sat on the board of the Travail, Fidélité, Progrès (TRAFIPRO) food cooperative, edited the pro-Hutu Catholic magazine Kinyamateka, and founded the Mouvement Social Muhutu (MSM), which later became the Parti du Mouvement de l'Emancipation Hutu (PARMEHUTU). The second major figure in the Hutu elite was Joseph Gitera, whose base was in the south of the country. He was also an ex-seminarian, and founder of the Association pour la Promotion Sociale de la Masse (APROSOMA) party. Religious historians Ian and Jane Linden described Gitera as "more passionate and perhaps compassionate" than Kayibanda and other Hutu ex-seminarians, but also described him as "often erratic and sometimes fanatical".

The monarchy and prominent Tutsi, which had always assumed that power would be transferred to them on independence, sensed the growing influence of the Hutu and began to agitate for immediate independence. They formed their own party, the Union Nationale Rwandaise (UNAR), which was pro-monarchy and also anti-Belgian, a stance which earned them backing from the Communist bloc. In 1957, a group of Hutu scholars wrote the "Bahutu Manifesto". This was the first document to label the Tutsi and Hutu as separate races, and called for the transfer of power from Tutsi to Hutu based on what it termed "statistical law".

Im sogenannten ersten ruandischen Genozid (1959-1961) wurden rund 100.000 Tutsi umgebracht. Die Hutu-Revolution resultierte in der Flucht des Tutsi-Königs und 200.000 weiterer Tutsi nach Burundi. Im Januar 1961 wurde die Republik Ruanda ausgerufen. Im September gewann die von den Hutu dominierte Parmehutu Partei die Wahlen. Formell unabhängig wurde Ruanda am 1.07.1962. Die Parmehutu Partei nannte sich nunmehr Mouvement Démocratique Républicain (MDR, Democratic Republican Movement) und hielt sich unter ihrem Vorsitzenden Grégoire Kayibanda bis 1973 an der Macht. 1963 begannen Tutsi nach Ruanda zurückzukehren. Die Regierung befürchtete einen bewaffneten Aufstand der Tutsi und unternahm entsprechend repressive Maßnahmen. In der folgenden Dekade kam es dann zu größeren Auseinandersetzungen. Am 05.07.1973 riss der Verteidigungsminister General Juvénal Habyarimana in einem unblutigen Coup die Macht an sich. Habyarimana, ein Hutu aus dem wohlhabenderen nördlichen Ruanda, warf Kayibanda die bevorzugte Behandlung der südlichen Hutu vor und gründete mit dem Mouvement Républicain National pour la Démocratie (MRND, National Republican Movement for Development) eine neue Partei.

In 1988, the Catholic monthly newspaper Kinyamatekhae lped inspire the emergence of a free press by speaking out openly about the enrichment of public officials and exposing the serious economic problems in the country, including a famine in the south. The many new newspapers and journals that appeared in the next several years helped channel public discontent with the regime into calls for democratic reform. The democratic movement in Rwanda was never more than a loose congeries of journalists, civil society activists, politicians from the former Kayibanda regime, and others frustrated at the continuation of authoritarian rule, but, by early 1990, a range of groups and individuals, many of them 176 This content downloaded from 194.94.133.193 on Thu, 1 May 2014 07:58:50 AM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions ChurchP oliticsa nd the Genocidein Rwanda 177 affiliated with the churches, were calling for respect for civil rights, the legalization of opposition parties, and free and fair elections. Many Tutsi joined in this protest, because of frustration over their continued political exclusion, as did southern Hutu, who objected to the domination of the government and military by

1990 halfen belgische Truppen und afrikanische Nachbarstaaten bei der Niederwerfung eines Aufstandsversuchs durch exilierte Tutsi in Uganda. Rund 2.000 Tutsi starben, bevor der Front Patriotique Rwandais (FPR, Rwandan Patriotic Front) und die ruandische Regierung einen Waffenstillstand erreichten. 1991 führte eine neue Verfassung eine Mehrparteien-Demokratie in Ruanda ein. Im August 1993 kam es zu einem Friedensvertrag mit der FPR und Wahlen wurden für 1995 vorgesehen. Es kam jedoch zu Verzögerungen.

Der Genozid von 1994

Zwischen 800.000 und einer Million Menschen kamen in der Zeit vom 07.04.1994 bis Juni desselben Jahres in Ruanda um. Der Genozid begann nach dem Abschuss des Flugzeugs von Präsident Juvénal Habyarismana (einem Angehörigen der Ethnie der Hutu) am Abend des 06.04.1994 und entwickelte sich zu einem beispiellosen Massaker von Hutus an Tutsis und an moderaten Hutus. Der Völkermord wurde durch den Einmarsch und die Machtübernahme der im Exil von Paul Kagame aufgebauten "Front Patriotique Rwandais" beendet.

Der Genozid in Ruanda (1994) überraschte die Welt, weil "man" geglaubt hatte, dass nach 1945 kein Genozid mehr zugelassen werden und durchgeführt werden könnte - aber in diesem Fall trotzdem zugelassen wurde. Die "Weltgemeinschaft" ließ den Genozid zu und zögerte sogar, ihn als solchen zu bezeichnen, obwohl er alle Merkmale des Genozids in einzigartiger Weise und offensichtlich verwirklichte. Church personnel involved in the violence justified the killing as a defensive action made necessary by the RPF invasion. They saw the death of Tutsi civilians as an unfortunate necessity of the war, because of the legitimate concern of Hutu for their safety. Even once the genocide was over and the genocidal regime was driven from power, some church personnel refused to acknowledge the nature of the offenses that had taken place. In August 1994, a group of priests wrote to the Vatican from exile in Congo to defend their position: To speak of genocide and to insinuate that only Hutus killed Tutsis is to be ignorant that Hutus and Tutsis have been each others'e xecutionersW. e dare even to confirm that the number of Hutu civilians killed by the army of the RPF exceeds by far the number of Tutsi victims of the ethnic troubles (quoted in African Rights 1995: 906).

Die Aufarbeitung

15 Jahre nach dem Völkermord leben Hunderte mutmaßlicher Täter in Kongo-Kinshasa, Südafrika, Kenia und vor allem in Europa (Belgien, Frankreich, Deutschland) und Amerika (Kanada, USA). Dazu gehört Félicien Kabuga, der mutmaßliche Geldgeber der Interhamwe-Milizen (Kenia). In Frankreich läuft eine Klage gegen die in der Nähe von Paris lebende Witwe des Präsidenten (Agathe H.), die verdächtigt wird, an der Planung und Ausführung des Genozids beteiligt gewesen zu sein. Ebenso wie Frankreich lehnt auch Kanada, wo rund 800 Tatverdächtige leben, Auslieferungen Ruanda ab, weil die ruandische Justiz nicht internationalem Standard entspreche. In Kanada lebt z.B. Léon Mugesera, der Ideologe der Massenvernichtung.

In der Folge wurden Verdächtige willkürlich verhaftet (1996); 1997 kehrten rund 1,2 Millionen Hutu-Flüchtlinge zurück. 1998 wurden 21 des Völkermords beschuldigte Verurteilte öffentlich hingerichtet. 2001 wurden Gacaca-Dorfgerichte zur schnelleren Aburteilung der über 120 000 genozidverdächtigen Inhaftierten eingerichtet.

Gegen den 2008 wiedergewählten Paul Kagame und neun seiner Getreuen besteht ein internationaler Haftbefehl. Der französische Untersuchungsrichter Jean-Louis Bruguière wirft den Gesuchten den Flugzeugabschuss und die Auslösung des mit der Tutsi-Machtübernahme beendeten Genozids vor. Auch die spanische Justiz sucht Kagame: "Los múltiples testimonios son concordantes: sus repetidas órdenes son siempre de screening, código interno que significa eliminación sin distinctión miles de civiles desarmados. Aunque en el caso de los tres obispos y diversos sacerdotes y religiosas asesinados en Kabgayi junto a una multitud de civiles, usó una variante: "Limpiad esa basura"" (Carrereo 2008).

Die FPR strebte die alleinige politische Führungsrolle in Ruanda an und bootete u.a. auch ihre Koalitionspartner MDR, PL und PSD aus. Angesichts ihrer zahlenmäßig minoritären Situation hätte die FPR diese Alleinherrschaft an den Urnen nie erlangen können. Deshalb schritt sie laut Anklageschrift zu den erwähnten Maßnahmen, die mit der faktischen Aufkündigung des Abkommens von Arusha begannen und mittles einer Dynamik von Chaos und Krieg zur Erreichung des Zieles führten - wenn auch auf dem Umweg über den Hutu-Genozid an den Tutsi. Das erste Ziel war die Eliminierung der damaligen Hutu- und der als verräterisch angesehenen Tutsi-Elite im Staat, einschließlich derjenigen der verbündeten Parteien; die Ermordung des Präsidenten Habyarimana als der einzigen Integrationsfigur. Während Hutu im Landesinnern die (von Kagame als Verräter angesehenen) Tutsi ermordeten, schickte man die Truppen fort, um die Hutu gewähren zu lassen und sich der Verräter auf diese Art zu entledigen. Die FPR erreichte ihr Ziel: die Wiederherstellung ihrer (in ihrer eigenen Mythologie) seit alters her bestehenden Herrschaft über Ruanda. Und die Herrschaft über die erheblichen Bodenschätze in benachbarten Zaire, heute (wieder) Kongo, wo man systematisch Coltan, Diamanten und Gold ausbeutet. Die UNO-Reaktion folgt dem Einfluss der USA und Dutzender von multinationalen Mineralienunternehmen und manifestiert ihre Grenzen auch in bezug auf ACNUR, den Organismus, der zum Schutze vor weiteren Gewalttaten eingerichtet worden war. ACNUR wurde gegen sein eigenes Mandat und gegen den Gersony-Bericht genötigt, die Hutu-Flüchtlinge nach Ruanda zurückzuschicken, wo sie häufig verschwanden oder ermordet wurden. Die Chefanklägerin des Ruanda-Tribunals, Carla del Ponte, wurde unmittelbar abgelöst, nachdem sie erklärt hatte, sie wolle zumindest einen der vermutlich 40 mutmaßlichen aktiven Tutsi-Staatsterroristen anklagen. Fernando Andreu hat nun erstmals in der Geschichte nicht die Verbrechen der Verlierer, sondern der Sieger angeklagt - wenn auch nur vor einem staatlichen Gericht in Spanien.

Nach Ansicht von Juan Carrero (Präsident des Fórum Internacional por la Verdad y la Justicia en el África de los Grandes Lagos) und Jordi Palou-Loverdos (Anwalt der spanischen und ruandischen Opfer sowie des Fórum vor der Audiencia Nacional in Madrid) wurden von 1990 bis 2008 von Angehörigen der Ethnie der Tutsi in Ruanda und in der Republik Kongo einzelne politische Delikte und massenhafte Tötungen begangen, die zum Teil auch die Bezeichnung eines Genozids verdienen und zum Teil als solche aufgrund des Weltrechtsprinzips in Spanien zur Anklage kamen.

Gegen 40 Personen mit hohen Ämtern in der ruandischen Regierung erließ Fernando Andreu, Richter an der Audiencia Nacional in Madrid, im Februar 2008 internationale Haftbefehle wegen des Verdachts auf Genozid. Unter den Opfern befanden sich neun Spanier (sechs Missionare und drei Angehörige der Médicos del Mundo). Eines der Opfer, Joaquim Vallmajó, hatte in Briefen an seine Freunde die FPR (Frente Patriótico Ruandés) beschuldigt, eine Kampagne der Desinformation in Gang zu setzen, "para hacer creer que las víctimas son los verdugos y los verdugos son las víctimas". Wenige Tage vor seinem Verschwinden im April 1994 hatte er die Maschinengewehrsalven, Schreie und Explosionen gehört, die das mitternächtliche Massaker an 2.500 Hutu-Bauern im Stadion von Byumba begleiteten. Auch die anderen spanischen Opfer waren unwillkommene Zeugen der Massaker seitens der (heute in Ruanda regierenden) Tutsi-Führungsebene an Hutu-Zivilisten gewesen.

Der ruandische Genozid liegt auch den beiden Angriffskriegen der Tutsi-Regierung in Ruanda uner Paul Kagame gegen Kongo zugrunde, die direkt oder indirekt rund fünf Millionen Menschenleben kosteten.

"Bis heute treiben die FDLR-Milizen, deren Präsident Ignace Murwanashyaka unbehelligt in Mannheim lebt, in Kongo ihr Unwesen" (Scheen 2009).

Seit einiger Zeit wird Kagame bezichtigt, einen Krieg gebraucht zu haben, "um die Macht übernehmen zu können, weil er angesichts der erdrückenden Mehrheit der Hutu im Land niemals eine Wahl gewonnen hätte, behaupten seine Kritiker. Ruanda bestreitet diese Vorwürfe und behauptet, die auf dem Höhepunkt des Völkermordes nach Ruanda entsandten franzöischen Streitkräfte hätten direkt am Völkermord teilgenommen" (Scheen 2009).


Literatur

  • Carney, J. J. (2012) Beyond Tribalism: The Hutu-Tutsi Question and Catholic Rhetoric in Colonial Rwanda. Journal of Religion in Africa 42 (2012) 172-202. Abstract: "Post genocide commentaries on colonial Rwandan history have emphasized the centrality of the Hamitic Hypothesis in shaping Catholic leaders’ sociopolitical imagination concerning Hutu and Tutsi identities. For most scholars, the resulting racialist interpretation of Hutu and Tutsi categories poisoned Rwandan society and laid the groundwork for postcolonial ethnic violence. This paper challenges the simplicity of this standard narrative. Not only did colonial Catholic leaders possess a complex understanding of the terms ‘Hutu’ and ‘Tutsi’, but the Hutu-Tutsi question was not the exclusive or even dominant paradigm of late colonial Catholic discourse. Even after the eruption of Hutu-Tutsi tensions in the late 1950s, Catholic bishops and lay elites continued to interpret the Hutu-Tutsi distinction in a wide variety of ways. Catholic attitudes and the escalation of Hutu-Tutsi tensions stemmed more from contextual political factors than immutable anthropological theories, however flawed." ... "After World War II the United Nations appointed an international trusteeship to oversee Rwanda and Burundi, exhorting Belgium to devolve further power to local elites. In response, Belgium announced a ten year development and devolution plan in 1952, opening prospects for democratic elections. In turn, Mwami Mutara announced the abolition of uburetwa (forced labor) and ubuhake (patron-client relationships), two vestiges of Rwanda’s precolonial society. In this sense Mutara embraced the political modernization of Rwanda, describing the 1953 decree establishing Rwanda’s Superior Council as ‘introducing democratic principles in the functioning of our institutions... Reacting to Belgium’s and Mutara’s decisions, missionaries and indigenous Catholic journalists exhorted Catholics to join and shape Rwanda’s evolving ‘march for progress’ (Rapport du Vicariat 1951; Volker 1952; Dejemeppe 1954). In practical terms this meant replacing Rwanda’s ancestral customs with Western economic, political, and human rights standards, closely associating the building of the Christian kingdom with the furthering of democracy and the resolution of Rwanda’s social problems (‘Pour le progrès’ 1952, 524-537). In this vein, Kayibanda argued that the Rwandan Christian’s task in the 1950s was to challenge ‘barbarous mentalities’ which cloaked themselves in the language of the ‘sacred custom of the country’ (Kayibanda 1954d, 343). The Hutu journalist and former Catholic seminarian Aloys Munyangaju agreed, calling his readers to the ballot boxes and celebrating the suppression of ubuhake as ‘the beginning of democracy’ (Munyangaju 1954, 155-156). Even the White Fathers began rewriting the history of Belgian occupation through the lens of elevating the common masses out of feudal oppression. Here Christianity emerged as an ethical faith that encouraged fraternity between all men, respected the rights of each human person, and supported social justice for the peasantry (‘Le Manifeste de la J.O.C.’ 1951; ‘Contrat et Travail ’ 1950; ‘Leçons de Morale Sociale’, 1951; ‘Le Ruanda-Urundi,’ 1954). ...In light of Rwanda’s postcolonial history, what seems most surprising in this literature is the absence of Hutu-Tutsi discourse. The Hutu évolué Kayibanda offers a telling example. As coauthor of the 1957 Bahutu Manifesto, founder of the Mouvement Social Muhutu, leader of the Parmehutu political party, and president of the First Republic between 1962 and 1973, Kayibanda served as the intellectual godfather of the Hutu nationalism that dominated Rwanda between 1959 and 1994. Yet as lay editor of L’Ami between 1953 and 1955, Kayibanda did not write on the Hutu-Tutsi question. When he spoke of the ‘feudal mentality’ infecting the wealthier classes, he did not label this mentality ‘Tutsi’ (Kayibanda 1954). His famous 1954 manifesto, ‘Marching towards Progress’, reads like a paean for interracial and intraclass collaboration on the pressing social issues of the day. Significantly, such social issues were never framed in Hutu-Tutsi terms (Kayibanda 1954d). And even after taking over the editorship of Kinyamateka, the popular Kinyarwanda-language Catholic newspaper, Kayibanda’s social critiques did not incorporate Hutu-Tutsi language until well into 1957 (Rutayasire 2009, 16-17). Similarly, Hutu-Tutsi language does not dominate the White Fathers’ political commentaries in the early 1950s. Brief anthropological studies in Catholic newspapers focused on the categories of clan and family; interracial analysis centered not on Hutu and Tutsi categories but rather on white-black divisions in Belgian Congo and apartheid South Africa (Nkongori 1951; Pauwels 1953; ‘Problèmes sociaux’ 1952). Nor did the Hutu-Tutsi distinction dominate the White Fathers’ more classified political reflections. For example, an anonymous October 1952 study of Rwandan politics described the Rwandan mentality as ‘characterized by duplicity, xenophobia, and a lack of scruples in choosing means to an end’ (‘Pro Memoria’ 1952). One should note that the labels here are national rather than ethnic. Even a later advocate of Hutu emancipation like André Perraudin rarely alluded to an explicit Hutu-Tutsi problem in the early 1950s. To be sure,Perraudin wrote in his 1952 seminary report of wanting to ‘foster a more forthright fusion between subjects of the different races and vicariates’, attributing Nyakibanda Major Seminary’s recent tensions to ‘the human tendency of people of the same ethnic group to come together’ (Rapport Annuel 1952). Yet subsequent language implies that Perraudin was referring to tensions between Rwandans, Burundians, and Congolese rather than between Hutu and Tutsi. I have made four primary arguments in this essay. First, the precolonial categories of ‘Hutu’ and ‘Tutsi’ were fluid political and social identities whose meanings shifted in the late nineteenth century and under the influence of twentieth-century European colonization. .. Second, the Hamitic Hypothesis ... did not exert the hegemonic influence ... Third, Hutu-Tutsi language was markedly absent in early 1950s Catholic periodicals. Instead, Catholic social analysis was dominated by themes of anticommunism, democratization, secularization, Christian civilization, and the uncertain future of Rwanda’s elite évolués. This challenges the recent scholarly tendency to read Rwanda’s late-colonial history exclusively through a Hutu-Tutsi lens. Finally, I have argued that even after the public eruption of Hutu-Tutsi divisions in the late 1950s, Rwandan lay elites and Catholic bishops possessed a diversity of views on how to interpret these categories. In particular, I have highlighted the discourse of the 1958 Hutu-Tutsi Study Commission and the commentaries of Mgr. Perraudin and Mgr. Bigirumwami as examples of both the complexity and politicization of ethnic discourse. Looking back on colonial Catholic history in Rwanda, I would argue that contextual politics were far more determinative than overarching Hamitic or tribalist ideologies. To be sure, missionaries and Rwandan Catholic leaders invoked Hamitic or tribalist language in describing Hutu and Tutsi identities, but such language co-existed with other, more flexible socioeconomic descriptions. To put it simply, Catholic missionaries and Rwandan elites were not brainwashed by the Hamitic thesis. If the Hamitic thesis is a classic example of flawed missionary anthropology, it does not singlehandedly explain either the actions of Catholic leaders or Rwanda’s later history of Hutu-Tutsi conflict. Classe favored young Tutsi leaders because he thought they would facilitate the growth of the Catholic Church and favor the church’s institutional privileges. Perraudin supported emerging Hutu elites because they shared his vision of Christian civilization, church-state partnership, and social democracy. Likewise, Hutu-Tutsi conflicts in the late 1950s emerged out of a specific struggle for political power between rival Rwandan elites and Belgian colonial officials. Tutsi elites resisted incorporating Hutu elites into Rwanda’s traditional political structures and propagated an anticolonial, monarchist nationalism. - In contrast, Hutu elites recognized the populist potential of mobilizing a democratic electorate through the usage of collective ethnic rhetoric. Belgium played both sides of the fence before coming out in favor of the Hutu parties in 1959 and 1960. In summary, then, I have argued that politics matters more than ethnicity. - There is still a tendency in much journalistic commentary on Africa to assume that ethnic groups are locked into primordial and even ontological struggles. Seemingly tribal warfare emerges in places as diverse as Kenya, the Democratic Republic of Congo, South Africa, Cote d’Ivoire, and Sudan. But not only should these so-called tribal categories be subjected to further analytical scrutiny, but ethnic groups—and for that matter racial, class, religious, or gendered groups—are not destined to fight.21 Rather, political contexts determine whether certain identities emerge as flashpoints. In this regard Rwanda might have been spared the polemics of the late 1950s if Belgium had not propagated a Tutsi-dominated elite for decades. Likewise, the nation could have averted its late colonial tensions if Tutsi elites had voluntarily shared power with Hutu elites in the mid-1950s. Rwanda’s postcolonial history could have turned out very differently if Hutu elites had not conflated ethnic, social, and political identity in a cynical strategy to ensure the triumph of Hutu political parties in a democratic, majority-rule system. Nor does the current Rwandan government’s recent ban on Hutu and Tutsi discourse ensure a conflict-free future, especially if the ruling Rwanda Patriotic Front does not loosen its monopoly on power. In addition, political bias often explains the deeper motivations behind seemingly ethnic partisanship. In studying how Catholic missionaries and indigenous church leaders shaped and reacted to the political disputes that gripped Rwanda in the late 1950s and early 1960s, I have uncovered many flawed anthropological assumptions concerning the origins of the categories ‘Hutu’ and ‘Tutsi’. What I have not discovered is a racialist conspiracy against the Tutsi qua Tutsi. Rather, missionaries opposed Tutsi-dominated political parties like UNAR because they feared that UNAR would eliminate Catholic schools, create alliances with communist countries, and legalize divorce. On the other hand, Catholic missionaries did not sympathize with Hutu elites simply because they wanted to help a benighted race of Bantu cultivators. They favored them because Hutu elites praised the church, supported liberal democracy, and proclaimed their commitment to maintaining a close partnership between Rwanda and Belgium. Catholic missionaries downplayed anti-Tutsi violence in the early 1960s not because they hated Tutsi; many of these same missionaries in fact welcomed thousands of Tutsi refugees to the grounds of their missions. Rather, missionaries feared that the Catholic Church would lose institutional privileges if it critiqued the emerging Hutu government’s complicity in the violence. In summary, politics—whether colonial, nationalist, ecclesial or otherwise—offers far more explanatory value for understand." -
  • Hankel, Gerd (Hg.) (2008) Die Macht und das Recht. Beiträge zum Völkerrecht und zum Völkerstrafrecht am Beginn des 21. Jahrhunderts; Hamburger Edition HIS Verlagsgesellschaft.
  • Hankel, Gerd (2006) Die UNO. Idee und Wirklichkeit; Hamburger Edition HIS Verlagsgesellschaft.
  • Hankel, Gerd (2003) Die Leipziger Prozesse. Deutsche Kriegsverbrechen und ihre strafrechtliche Verfolgung nach dem Ersten Weltkrieg; Hamburger Edition HIS Verlagsgesellschaft.
  • Hankel, Gerd und Gerhard Stuby, Hg. (1995) Strafgerichte gegen Menschheitsverbrechen. Völkerstrafrecht 50 Jahre nach den Nürnberger Prozessen; Hamburger Edition HIS Verlagsgesellschaft.
  • Heyns, Stefiszyn (2006) Human Rights, Justice, and Power. Pretoria: PULP. Darin: "The most spectacular instance of this double failure was Rwanda. To draw a few general lessons from the Rwandan experience, I will focus on one event, the ‘social revolution’ of 1959. This is the event that ushered in the volcanic landscape that we call postcolonial Rwanda. I will begin with the question of identity — who is a Muhutu and who a Mututsi — and the need to distinguish between cultural and political identities. If you go to contemporary Kigali and ask someone in the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) as to the difference between a Muhutu and Mututsi, you will most likely be told: ‘We live on the same hills, speak the same language and practice the same religion. We are the same people’. And so it is: Culturally, the difference between Bahutu and Batutsi is like a difference along a continuum. But not so politically. Bahutu and Batutsi have been produced as bipolar, often antagonistic, political identities: One as power, the other as subject. The cultural continuity, and the political discontinuity, is very much like that between Afrikaners and Coloureds in this country. As is well known, the Native Authority in colonial Rwanda, particularly after the late 1920s, were wholly Batutsi and the peasant masses predominantly Bahutu. Not surprisingly, peasant jacqueries against the Native Authority took on an anti–Tutsi character. Abetted by the Catholic Church and encouraged by Belgian colonial power, peasant resistance turned into an insurgent revolt against Tutsi power in the Native Authority. The new power, the custodian of the ‘social revolution’ of 1959, was self– consciously a ‘Hutu Power’. Institutions previously Tutsified were now Hutuised. A programme of redress, permanent and without limits, followed. Access to education, from primary to university, and to state employment was defined in terms of whether you were recognised by the state as a Muhutu or a Mututsi. ‘Hutu’ and ‘Tutsi’ became permanent identities, politically enforced, the former with a preferential access to power, the latter subject to that same power. The quest for justice had turned into revenge. Post–1959 Rwanda raises a question: How did the pursuit of justice turn into revenge? Several lessons can be drawn from the historical tragedy that unfolded in the aftermath of the ‘social revolution’ of 1959. First was a failure to historicise the nature of power and the identities it generated, one that turned into a failure to reform power and to transform the identities imposed by power. For the fact was that Tutsi was not simply the identity of chiefs in the Native Authority, it was also the identity of the native strata most directly affected by racial exclusion in the civic sphere. In other words, Tutsi was the identity both of power in the Native Authority and of an insurgent nationalism in the civic sphere. The irony is that both Bahutu and Batutsi had a victim consciousness, but in different realms of power: Bahutu resisted an ethnic dictatorship in the Native Authority, and Batutsi resisted a racial dictatorship in the civic authority. Whereas Bahutu resistance against a ‘customary’ Native Authority was called tribalism, Batutsi resistance against a racialised and modern civic power was called nationalism. Both tribalism and nationalism were insurgent ideologies, and yet both were limited in perspective and problematic in nature. Forged as movements of resistance in the womb of power, each was marked from birth by the contours of that power. So a racialised Tutsi identity came to be the birthmark of urban resistance and an ethnicised Hutu identity the birthmark of rural resistance. If the insurgency was to transcend the identities imposed by power as divisions inside the people — racial and ethnic — then it would have to reform the nature of that power. It would have to deracialise civic authority and detribalise Native Authority, as so many jumpstarts in an overall democratic process. This, then, was a failure to differentiate political from cultural identity. It was not surprising in an age when politics was often considered to be a residual activity. If you were a rightist, you assumed that the contours of political identity were culturally given, and if you were a leftist you assumed they were economically determined. It was a failure to realise that political identity was not and did not have to be a simple and unproblematic translation of cultural or economic difference into the political sphere. Rather, political identity was reproduced through a set of historically defined institutions that underpinned a form of power. Only a reform of that power would reproduce a common political identity. In Rwanda, this was a failure to recognise that one could forge a common Rwandese political identity, without denying Bahutu and Batutsi as cultural identities along a cultural continuum, but at the same time without translating these into bipolar political oppositions. Second, even if it led to a radical changing of places between Bahutu and Batutsi, the ‘revolution’ reinforced Hutu and Tutsi as political identities, rather than eroding them. The same process which turned the consciousness of being a Muhutu, previously a stamp of servitude, into a badge of pride and an identity of power, demonised the Batutsi. To make the revolutionary process ‘permanent’, it institutionalised the political opposition between Hutu and Tutsi. Rwanda raises the question of how identities consolidated in the course of a struggle can persist in a changed context, thereby subverting the very possibilities opened up by that struggle. It calls attention to the process by which past grievances is sanctified into a shield protecting a new power against future critiques. More specifically, it invites us to understand the process by which memories of a past tragedy — the Holocaust, the Genocide — become key ingredients in the forging of a new state ideology. Put in the language of revolutionaries, it underlines some of the ways in which demands for ‘permanent revolution’ as in Trotsky or ‘uninterrupted revolution’ as in Mao can turn into so many gravediggers of that same revolutionary process. Third, as the programme of redress, heralded as revolutionary justice, became permanent — even turned into a prerogative of ‘revolutionaries’ — the failure to reorganise power turned into a failure to reorganise and create a political community inclusive of both Bahutu and Batutsi. Revolutionaries who vowed never to forget the past accented the past over the future, giving a longer leash to the identities which animated that past, and a shorter shrift to a process that might forge a common identity and a reorganised political community of survivors out of that past tragedy. It is the failure to frame justice within notions of an inclusive political community that turned justice into a permanent preoccupation, a vendetta that increasingly spelt revenge."
  • Krüger, Karen (2006) Die Massen bewegen: Medien und Emotionen in der Moderne, in: Frank Bösch, ‎Manuel Borutta, ‎Emotions ..
  • Krüger, Karen (2004) “They are not different from us, they just look different“. Colonial Stereotypes and Violence in Rwanda 1994
  • Longman, Timothy (2001) CHURCH POLITICS AND THE GENOCIDE IN RWANDA. Journal of Religion in Africa 31: 163-186. Darin: "Both because they saw Tutsi as the established elite who needed to be appeased and because they believed in the natural superiority of Tutsi, missionaries initially offered educational and employment opportunities overwhelmingly to Tutsi. As Tutsi themselves entered the priesthood, some used their positions to further advance the interests and prospects of their ethnic group. Most significantly, the court histories written by the priest Alexis Kagame helped justify Tutsi rule over Rwanda (Linden and Linden 1977: 73-185; Rutayisire 1987; Vidal 1991). Following the Second World War, a new breed of Catholic missionary, influenced by social democratic philosophies, questioned the inequalities in Rwandan society and began to foster a Hutu 'counter-elite,' providing education and employment to promising young Hutu. When a peasant uprising in November 1959 drove most Tutsi from political offices, the Hutu counter-elite fostered by the missionaries stepped out of their church functions to assume political leadership, including Gr&goire Kayibanda, who had served as editor of a Catholic newspaper and leader of a Catholic consumers' cooperative and went on to become prime minister, then president ... While the 1959 revolution led to a dramatic shift in the structures of political power in Rwanda, as Hutu assumed nearly all state offices, and marked a partial shift in church support from Tutsi to Hutu, the basic principles of the churches' participation in political struggles and engagement in ethnic politics remained consistent."
  • Mamdani, Mahmood (2001) When Victims Becme Killers. Princeton Darin: "Chapter Four focuses on the revolution of 1959 and on the intellectuals who tended to eulogize it. Unlike some who write after the genocide of 1994 and caricature the Revolution, I take its social claims seriously. But unlike those who turn the social and economic record of the revolution as reason enough to embrace it, I turn to its political record toproblematize the revolution. The single most important failure of the revolution was its inability to transform Hutu and Tutsi as political identities generated by the colonial power. If anything, the revolution built on and reinforced these identities in the name of justice. The underside of the Rwandan revolution, its political tragedy, was that this relentless pursuit of justice turned into a quest for revenge. That quest was the hallmark of the First Republic."
  • Raab, Klaus (2011) Ruandas Präsident lässt mit sich reden. der Freitag Nr. 22, 1.06.2011: 21.

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