Ruanda: Unterschied zwischen den Versionen

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== Literatur ==
== 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."
*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. To borrow David Newbury’s
description of precolonial identity formation on the Congo-Rwanda border,
‘ethnic identities were not primordial; they were contextually created, they
altered over time, and they evolved differently in different places and contexts’
(Newbury 2009, 298). Second, although the Hamitic Hypothesis represented
an inaccurate European racialization of Hutu-Tutsi categories, it did not exert
J. J. Carney / Journal of Religion in Africa 42 (2012) 172-202 193
the hegemonic influence on Catholic imagination with which it is often credited.
Here I have highlighted Mgr. Léon Classe’s multifaceted descriptions
of Hutu and Tutsi during the early decades of the twentieth century. At
times Classe utilized Hamitic language, but he was far more concerned with
protecting Catholic institutional interests than instituting a racialist apartheid
system within the church or society. Third, Hutu-Tutsi language was markedly
absent in early 1950s Catholic periodicals and missionary correspondence.
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
194 J. J. Carney / Journal of Religion in Africa 42 (2012) 172-202
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.22
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 (Hg.) (2008) Die Macht und das Recht. Beiträge zum Völkerrecht und zum Völkerstrafrecht am Beginn des 21. Jahrhunderts; Hamburger Edition HIS Verlagsgesellschaft.
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