End of an Era in Burundi

Things happen pretty fast. I started to write a few days ago and other obligations took over. When I picked it up to write again, the George Floyd thing had blossomed to become an international phenomenon. So I changed tack and was headed a bit more in that direction (which I'll probably do later). Then yesterday we were informed about the passing of the Burundian president. Admittedly, that last one is not likely to get much of a rise out of most people but for us it was significant.

I should explain. For many reading this, you are aware that we spent six years in Burundi. It’s the country where our daughters lived the first years of their lives. We developed many friends that we have in our lives today. And a lot happened while we were there and we have many fond memories.

We moved to Burundi in September 2010 as I began my new job in a country about the size of the US state of Connecticut. It’s the second most densely populated country in Africa and is one of the poorest places on earth. The capital, Bujumbura, is a city of about 3 million people beautifully nestled on the shores of Lake Tanganyika, with a fantastic view of the Itombwe Mountains in the Congo (reaching nearly 3,500m./11,500ft.) across the water. The country consists mostly of rolling, deforested hills and almost every square meter is cultivated as farming is how most people attempt to eke out a living.

 There is no question that when President Pierre Nkurunziza assumed power in 2005, he inherited a country with a troubled past. But the sports teacher turned militant turned politician was ill-prepared, or rather dangerously prepared, for the task that lay before him. In 1972 his father was killed in genocidal violence perpetrated by the minority Tutsi leadership that had governed the country since colonial times. The perpetual abuse by the Tutsis against the majority Hutu population is important in that the hatred that it infused laid the foundation for the unending tit-for-tat that has ensued to date.

 Ethnic civil war broke out in 1993, separate but related to the genocide just to the north in Rwanda that would unfold the following year. Nkurunziza came to be in charge of military and political wings of a rebel group that would evolve to become today’s ruling party. After the war, his party was allowed to join the government, setting the stage for his first governmental appointment (and possibly the greatest irony of all) as Minister for Good Governance.

 When he became president in 2005, there was some hope that he might help in improving strained ethnic relations, usher in stability and lay the foundation for much needed economic growth. Though his father was Hutu and his mother was Tutsi, Nkurunziza self-identified as a Hutu. This tribal mixing, fairly common at the time, was rarely discussed when promoting the puzzling concept of ethnic/moral superiority of one side or the other. Being of mixed ethnicity could have served as a foundation for national reconciliation. Alas, that was not to be.

 The president carried with him into office a deep-seeded hatred that would drive his decision making until his death. There’s no question that the killing of his father, combined with years of hiding and fighting in the bush, fostered this hatred. There’s also no question that the mistreatment of Hutus, not only by the Tutsi but also Belgian rule before them, drove many of the decisions that his government would make over the years. Though he had become an evangelical Christian, the 28 bible verses that communicate that vengeance is God’s responsibility rather than man’s would strategically and emphatically be ignored.

 In Michela Wrong’s brilliant book, It’s Our Turn To Eat (about Kenya), she describes this phenomenon. When a people group gains power, and you haven’t had it and/or don’t know how long you will have it, you take full advantage of it. The others did when they were in power so now that it’s your turn, you enrich yourself and take care of your grudges. It happens in almost every country. In the case of Burundi, this unshakeable obsession, generally under the radar and not understood by the international community, prompted a long string of irrational policies and further impoverished the country.

 Over the time that we were in the country, we could see this unfold firsthand. I can’t claim to fully understand the ghosts that haunted the president and what led him to do what he did, but in the end it hurt not only his political opponents but also his own constituents. His government’s economic policy was reckless and ill-informed. He surrounded himself with the faithful rather than the talented. Meetings I had with ministers and other government officials reflected people that had a relatively shallow understanding of what was going on or what needed to be done. Many of them had no background or education in the sectors they were running. The government stumbled along with very little accountability.

 All this would worsen dramatically with the attempted coup in 2015. The damage his administration was inflicting on the country was apparent across ethnic boundaries but the fear of reprisal prevented any legitimate opposition. In the end, the coup plotters were primarily of his own ethnicity. When the coup attempt failed, paranoia at all levels began to run even deeper. We would hear the nightly battles between opposition and government forces. Almost every evening after dark you would hear gunfire, sometimes grenades and even mortars. This went on for months. Frequently they would leave the bodies of the slain, often bound with signs of torture, in a visible location for the population to discover the next morning. Early on the government had created an informal armed militia that was distributed throughout the country – generally young thugs that would threaten any opposition to the president and did so with impunity. They would complement the work of the police force which was also doing the bidding of the president.

 Over this period hundreds of thousands of Burundians would flee their country, most of whom are still in exile. Though many are Tutsi, many are not. Some fled in fear. Others fled in hunger. My wife and I worked with an earlier wave of Burundian (and Congolese) refugees in Tanzania from 2007 to 2010 before moving to Burundi where my team was supporting their return and reintegration. After the coup attempt, and the subsequent crackdown implemented across the country, a couple hundred thousand fled again, many of whom had already fled once or twice before. All in all I spent nine years working with Burundians.

 So here we are. The cause of the former president's death was announced to be heart attack. However his spin doctors announced his hospitalization on Friday for “an illness”. Then on the weekend they said he was doing well. On Monday he died. While it could have been a heart attack, it doesn’t really sound like it. It appears more likely that it was Covid-19. His wife, who many believe to be a dear woman, has been in hospital in Nairobi being treated for the coronavirus (and I think some other family members as well). But the president had consistently dismissed and ignored the pandemic saying it wasn’t a threat, that God would protect them, and that his country would not submit to the economy-inhibiting measures to stem its spread. A political career riddled with harmful policies ended with one that contributed to his own death.  

 I have mixed feelings about this whole thing. I’m sad for his family and friends that have lost a loved one. There is no question I would have preferred that he step down from power long ago for the good of the country, that someone would come to power that would reel in the systematic dishing out of vengeance and begin the process of healing. Unfortunately that remains unlikely. There are some signs that the president-elect might be slightly more moderate but the world is full of examples where things start that way and deteriorate thereafter. Time will tell. Our prayers are with the family of the former president and the new leadership. May they not repeat the sins of the past.