When Pope Francis received Congolese president Joseph Kabila at the
Vatican on September 26, the meeting did not take place in the reception
room where the pontiff usually meets visiting heads of state.
Instead, the pope greeted Kabila in his library before holding a brief 20-minute meeting conducted through interpreters,
in which he raised concerns about the killing of scores of protesters
in Congo’s capital, Kinshasa, who were demonstrating against expected
delays to elections originally slated for November.
Francis, unsurprisingly, did not indicate that the breach of protocol
was intentional.
But according to DRC expert Phil Clark, the choice of
venue echoed the Catholic Church’s position in opposing Kabila’s
apparent attempts to delay elections and stay in power beyond his term
in Congo, one of Africa’s most promising yet fragile countries.
“I don’t think the pope does those things without there being some
symbolic message,” says Clark, a reader in international politics at
SOAS University of London. “I interpreted the pope’s subtle snub as a
message to Kabila that the Catholic Church doesn’t see him as the
legitimate president of Congo any longer.”
According to observers, Congo is on the brink of falling back into conflict.
There have been signs of political unrest since January 2015, when
scores of protesters were killed in Kinshasa clashes with security
forces.
The protests were called after a bill was put forward that would
allow Kabila to remain in power while a national census was conducted,
thereby potentially delaying presidential and parliamentary elections
and keeping Kabila in power.
The fears of the protesters who took to the streets of the capital
were not misplaced.
After months of protests against the possible
delays—including a mass demonstration in Kinshasa on September 20, in which around 50 people were killed
in clashes with security forces, according to opposition groups, and
which the government called an uprising—the Congolese electoral
commission announced in October that the proposed vote would likely be
delayed by up to two years.
Kabila explained that this was in order to
stop millions of unregistered voters being “locked out” of the election, but opposition groups have interpreted it as evidence of glissement
—a French term meaning “slippage” that has been used by anti-Kabila
protesters to describe what they see as attempts to stay in power.
Before the Kinshasa protests, the Catholic Church was playing an
important role in seeking to resolve Congo’s crisis.
The church had been
acting as a mediator in a so-called national dialogue to help construct
a peaceful course towards the elections.
(The dialogue involved
Kabila’s government and several minor opposition parties, but not major
opposition figures such as former prime minister Étienne Tshisekedi or fellow presidential candidate Moïse Katumbi.)
After the killings, the Church temporarily suspended its role and
then, in early October, it completely pulled out. “Only an inclusive
dialogue which respects the constitutional order will provide a
framework for resolving our crisis,” said Archbishop Utembi Tapa,
the president of the Congolese bishops’ conference, upon announcing the
withdrawal. The Church has since, at Kabila’s request, opened talks
with opposition groups not included in the national dialogue, but the
consultations has not yet borne any concrete resolutions.
The church’s withdrawal from the national dialogue has damaged the
credibility of the entire process, says Ben Shepherd, associate fellow
at London-based think tank Chatham House.
Around half
of the country’s 80 million-plus population are Roman Catholic and the
church has a vast infrastructure of schools, hospitals and even private
businesses across the country. “The Catholic Church is one of the few
institutions in Congo with genuine popular trust and links to the
population at all levels,” says Shepherd.
Following the announced delay to elections, the situation in Congo
remains tense and confusing. Opposition political parties—the most
prominent of which have coalesced around a shared platform known as
Rassemblement (“Rally”)—are continuing to call for protests, while
Kabila has begun reforming his government to include opposition figures who participated in the national dialogue.
As December 19—the last day of Kabila’s second, and final,
presidential term—approaches, further demonstrations look likely.
Opposition figures believe that, in the interim period between now and
the elections, Kabila may try to change the country’s constitution and
lift or extend presidential term limits. (A government spokesman,
Lambert Mende, previously told The Guardian that such allegations were “gross lies.”)
Should the church throw its weight behind such protests, it would
likely prove a more difficult foe to the president than opposition
parties, says Shepherd. “They would have a much more serious ability to
call demonstrations, strikes, public action,” he says. “If the church
were to tell the people that this is illegitimate and should not stand,
Kabila would have to take that very seriously indeed.”
The church has positioned itself as a defender of the people in
Congo, and the people appear to be turning against Kabila: a recent
survey of 7,500 Congolese found that three in four respondents thought
the president should leave power by the end of 2016, and four in five
rejected any potential constitutional change that could keep Kabila in
power.
In a country that has been synonymous with conflict for many
years—the Second Congo War, which lasted from 1998 to 2003, was
considered the world’s deadliest conflict
since World War II—the church’s primary intention is to avoid further
strife.
As Father Léonard Santedi, a priest in the archdiocese of
Kinshasa, put it recently in a letter to The Guardian: “Our deepest hope is that the current unrest won’t descend into civil war: our country has seen enough bloodshed.”