Ruanda: Unterschied zwischen den Versionen

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 [http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Internationaler_Strafgerichtshof_f%C3%BCr_Ruanda 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.

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.

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.

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".

*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." -

*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."