This is an important book because it creates order in events that have to be understood, but that are confusing by any standard. At the grass-roots, the war in the Congo must have seemed, and must still seem, a cosmic event – hence the designation of ‘Africa's world war’ is taken as the title of this book. It was not a world war in the strict sense, but outsiders were deeply involved in it, including Angola, Zimbabwe, Namibia, Sudan, South Africa, and to a lesser extent the United States and France. The list is not complete. It was also a very cruel war in which many lives were lost for no reason. Cannibalism and mass rape were ingredients of this warfare. Standard explanations in political science, whether from the right or the left, make no sense of it. Prunier argues cogently, for example, that the war cannot be explained in terms of Western economic interests. The last chapter is modestly entitled: ‘Groping for meaning: the “Congolese” conflict and the crisis of contemporary Africa’. Gerard Prunier deserves great respect for conscientiously following, documenting and interpreting the unfolding of these depressing events.

The Congo and Rwanda are areas outside my particular interests, but this war overwhelmed sub-Saharan Africa to such an extent that any person studying African politics needs to be informed about it. This book gives a clear chronology of events from 1995 to 2007, and that is very helpful in ordering the mind. First, there is the aftermath of the Rwandan genocide when there were masses of Rwandan refugees in Congo. Then comes the march from eastern Congo to Kinshasa and the fall of Mobutu. The third stage is the attempt from the east to unseat Laurent Kabila. A last stage is the peace process. The situation in eastern Zaire is all the time central and most intractable in the events. This enumeration is a simplification, just like the mention of the actors involved. I would have to study hard to pass a real examination on the topic. Nevertheless, the book leaves some very clear impressions. Firstly, it gives a fascinating account of Rwanda's Paul Kagame. He appears as the great mover, if not the villain of the piece, in relation to what happened in Congo. Prunier describes with great honesty how he was first taken in by Kagame's portrayal of himself. However, he had to conclude that Kagame tolerated, if not encouraged, wanton killings after taking power under the cover of a government of national unity. Kagame appears to be a very astute and opportunist politician, and the only redeeming thought that comes to mind is that he was a villain among villains. Secondly, the book leaves a forceful impression of how difficult it is to understand how leaders attract a following. Laurent Desiré Kabila is portrayed in this book as a loose cannon who was still living back in the days of the Cold War, while the world around him was changing beyond recognition. Yet, this whimsical and often cruel man got ‘a grand national funeral where hundreds of thousands turned up’ after his murder (p. 250). Thirdly, the book gives an astonishing impression of the fickle nature of alliances with tragic consequences. For example, on p. 283: ‘the paradoxes were massive, particularly if one remembers that it was to “save” the Banyamulenge threatened with “genocide” that the Rwandese army had first entered the Congo in 1996. Now that same Rwandese army was attacking the same Banyamulenge with combat helicopters.’

It feels invidious to criticise a book of such stature, yet I was from time to time uneasy reading this tome. It is understandable that a contemporary history dealing with massive illegality, frequent undercover operations and deceit among disingenuous leaders has to make use of highly informal and confidential sources. Nevertheless, when the book treated a subject with which I am familiar, Zambian politics, I would have liked more open sources to be cited. The general tenor of this book is correct: important Zambian politicians were involved in matters like gun running, but otherwise Zambia stayed out of the conflicts. However, much of his writing on Zambia is off the mark. In one telling example, Prunier writes: ‘Kaunda, who took kickbacks from private contractors instead of directly dipping into the public treasury’ (p. 100). I would like a source for this statement. Much has to be clarified about Kaunda's finances, but it seems increasingly likely that he accessed foreign exchange in the London account of the nationalised mines. If so, then these are not private contractors. The context of the statement suggests that Chiluba did not take money from private contractors, and that is highly unlikely. There are, for example, many dubious relationships reported in the press between Chiluba and the Katangese businessman Katebe Katoto, alias Raphael Soriano. These relationships are important in a book like this, and have to be researched and formulated carefully. However, Prunier is right in that the amazing fact remains that Zambia stayed out of this war. He suggests that this is because of the mildness and the decency of the Zambian people. I do not think that is a fair judgement on Zambian politicians: Zambia's presidents can be criticised in many ways, but they were never warmongers. There are also small issues of fact that are maybe unavoidable, but nevertheless irritate. For example: De Standaard is a Belgian and not a Dutch newspaper (p. 124). Billy Rautenbach's Wheels of Africa was a transport company plying between Southern African ports and the interior with great ZAPU influence, not a company importing Japanese cars into Zimbabwe (pp. 217–18). To conclude: this book is a milestone that should be read by anybody interested in African politics, and we should be grateful to Prunier for completing this mammoth enterprise. However, when I consider what he writes on Zambia, I do not think that it is the definitive version of events.