The government of the Democratic Republic of Congo has made its most dangerous move so far. On Tuesday, September 30, a military tribunal handed down a death sentence to former president Joseph Kabila in his absence, accusing him of treason, war crimes, and crimes against humanity.
It's an astonishing development in a nation already troubled by more than a hundred armed factions, separatist conflicts, and unstable leadership. For a volatile country, this choice is not only remarkable—it's dangerous.
The statement highlights a broader issue: has Kinshasa, during President Félix Tshisekedi's leadership, become unpredictable in its quest for political control, potentially leading Congo into greater instability?
Kabila: From Political Broker to Adversary of the State
Joseph Kabila's significance in the political landscape of the Democratic Republic of the Congo is immense. He came into power in 2001 following the killing of his father, Laurent-Désiré Kabila, and remained in leadership for 18 years until he left office in 2019.
The handover to Tshisekedi was celebrated as Congo's initial peaceful change in leadership, yet beneath the surface was a delicate agreement. By 2020, disputes regarding judicial appointments and authority over electoral bodies caused the alliance to break apart, leading the two individuals toward a confrontation.
In December 2023, Kabila went into exile in South Africa, where he temporarily continued his postgraduate education. However, as the conflict in the east escalated, he reappeared in May 2025 in the city of Goma, which was under M23 control.
He had lost his diplomatic immunity through a Senate decision by that point, following Tshisekedi's possession of the incriminating evidence along with the usual allegations: the former president was not only supportive of M23 but also actively backing their uprising.
Kabila rejected the allegations, labeling the trial as unjust and the courts "tools of repression." Nevertheless, his passionate speeches criticizing Tshisekedi—accusing the government of authoritarian rule, ethnic favoritism, and exporting Congo's mineral resources to foreign nations—only deepened doubts.
The death penalty has now made official what many were afraid of: the competition has turned into a battle for survival.
A Perilous Example in Africa
It is uncommon for African governments to impose the death penalty on former leaders. Throughout history, there have been numerous coups, assassinations, and forced exiles, yet legal executions are still rare.
The bold move in Kinshasa follows troubling political events in the area. In Uganda, opposition figure Dr Kizza Besigye has been imprisoned for almost a year, facing charges of treason, which can result in the death penalty.
In Tanzania, the fiery politician Tundu Lissu is incarcerated on charges of treason, while in South Sudan, Riek Machar is also in custody, facing similar accusations.
However, even when courts have served as political instruments, governments such as Uganda's, where treason charges have loomed over Besigye and his associates for years, have still allowed room for dialogue or external influence.
Congo's choice, thus, is not merely extreme but also establishes a perilous example: that officials may employ the death penalty as a tool in conflicts among the elite.
This brings up pressing concerns. Is Tshisekedi's administration capable of carrying out an execution against a former leader who has extensive connections within the military, intelligence agencies, and tribal militias?
The risk is significant. Eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo is already a volatile situation. The M23 has control over Goma, Bukavu, and key airfields.
In the meantime, Kabila continues to enjoy significant loyalty from militias in South Kivu, his native province, as well as from parts of the Congolese armed forces who previously served under his command.
Imposing the death penalty on him is more than just a gesture—it has the potential to incite violent uprisings. Should Kabila strengthen his connections with M23 and other armed groups, Kinshasa might be plunged into a full-scale civil war.
In March, M23 welcomed Kabila to their "liberated zones." The image of the former president standing next to rebels who control large areas is highly provocative.
For Tshisekedi, the expectation could be that legally isolating Kabila will politically undermine him. However, in the heavily militarized environment of Congo, it may just as easily encourage Kabila's supporters to intensify their efforts.
Even a trapped mouse can turn and bite the cat. And Kabila is not just a small rodent, he is too large for such tactics.
Kinshasa's Rogue Turn
Why has Tshisekedi taken this route? Various reasons come to mind. However, first, it's important to consider Congo's turbulent history. The rule of Mobutu Sese Seko and Laurent Kabila concluded in a violent manner, with one escaping into exile and the other being killed while in office.
But it was what occurred prior to them that left Congo in disarray.
In September 1960, only a few months following Congo's independence, Colonel Joseph-Désiré Mobutu (later known as Mobutu Sese Seko), who was the Army Chief of Staff at the time, led a coup that removed Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba from power.
Mobutu's action received support from Western nations, especially Belgium and the United States, which were concerned about Lumumba's ties to the Soviet Union in the context of the Cold War.
Following the coup, Lumumba was eventually transferred to Katangan authorities, headed by Moïse Tshombe — Katanga being the breakaway region strongly supported by Belgian mining companies.
On January 17, 1961, Lumumba was killed by a firing squad in Katanga, with Belgian officials and Congolese allies involved in the execution.
And currently, there is political desperation. Tshisekedi is encountering increasing criticism for his inability to manage the eastern rebellion and allegations that he has given too much authority over the Democratic Republic of Congo's mineral resources to foreign nations.
By putting Kabila on trial, he transfers responsibility for the crisis and redefines the conflict as being driven by his former leader.
Labeling Kabila as a traitor also enables Tshisekedi to eliminate any chance of the former leader re-emerging as a political rival or influential figure in future elections.
In the meantime, Rwanda, which is accused of supporting M23, continues to be Tshisekedi's main opponent. By linking Kabila to M23, Kinshasa reinforces its argument in global discussions: Congo is being attacked by Rwanda with the involvement of a fallen former leader.
However, in striving for these objectives, Kinshasa has entered perilous ground. The courts seem to be used as tools, due process is weakened, and political rivalry is turned into a criminal matter. This is the "rogue state" image that Congo may end up presenting—where conflicts at the highest levels take precedence over national stability.
Throughout history, using judicial systems as tools to target political opponents has typically led to unfavorable outcomes.
In Nigeria, Olusegun Obasanjo received a death sentence in 1995 during the regime of General Sani Abacha, but was freed following Abacha's passing. Obasanjo came back and eventually became president, transforming the political landscape of Nigeria.
In Ethiopia, Mengistu Haile Mariam received a death sentence in his absence in 2008 for genocide, yet he continues to live in exile in Zimbabwe. The capital city, Addis Ababa, has not carried out the judgment, mainly due to political considerations.
In Ghana, past leaders have undergone legal proceedings and military takeovers, yet healing—instead of capital punishment—ultimately became the way to achieve political peace.
The trend is evident: capital punishment for former leaders is rarely carried out, as its implementation could destabilize the country. Rather, these sentences are used as means of intimidation, negotiation, or symbolic retribution.
Congo seems to have adopted this approach--but in a far more unstable environment.
Can Kabila Truly Face Execution?
In practical terms, carrying out Kabila's execution would be extremely difficult. He is not under government detention but is located in areas controlled by rebels, where Kinshasa has no authority. Any effort to capture him might lead to widespread conflict.
Additionally, the global community is unlikely to accept such an action. The death penalty remains contentious; putting a former head of state to death in a delicate democracy would trigger widespread criticism, penalties, and probable isolation of Kinshasa.
Nevertheless, even without real enforcement, the decision holds influence. It conveys to Kabila's followers that the political field is inaccessible, forcing them towards rebellion or separation. Additionally, it informs other Congolese leaders that allegiance to Tshisekedi is the sole way to remain safe.
The risks could not be more significant. Eastern Congo already resembles a semi-autonomous region controlled by M23, featuring its own administrative systems. The central government's authority barely reaches beyond Kinshasa. In this unstable environment, labeling political opponents as enemies of the state could disrupt the delicate equilibrium.
Joseph Kabila might never face execution. However, the act of sentencing him to death could trigger a cycle of retaliation, increased military involvement, and division. This action reflects not power but desperation—an acknowledgment that Kinshasa is unable to handle opposition within the framework of democracy.
By taking a rogue approach, Tshisekedi might have pushed too far. For the people of Congo who have endured much, the risk is that this move could once again put peace aside in pursuit of power.
Copyright 2025 Nile Post. All rights reserved. Distributed by AllAfrica Global Media (MountainTravel).
Tagged: Congo-Kinshasa, Governance, Legal and Judicial Affairs, Central Africa
Provided by SyndiGate Media Inc. (Syndigate.info).
Posting Komentar