whose stories?

During the period October 2005 and November 2006, Maria Eriksson Baaz conducted group interviews with soldiers and officers within the Integrated Armed Forces (in the local language, Lingala).Footnote ⁷ The interviews were organised as semi-structured group interviews (groups of three to four persons) which lasted between two and three hours. Male and female soldiers were interviewed in separate groups.Footnote ⁸

Most of the soldiers and officers interviewed had recent experience (within one year) from the conflict areas. While some soldiers from other backgrounds were included, soldiers and officers from the previous government forces, the Forces Armées Congolaises (FAC), made up the majority of those interviewed. Some of these soldiers had joined the Army (at that time Forces Armées Zairoises) during the Mobutu period. Most, however, joined after Laurent Kabila took power in 1997. Some of them are former child soldiers – the famous kadogos – with whom Kabila entered Kinshasa in 1997.

The interview texts can be seen as distinct accounts which shed light on the ways in which the soldiers comprehend and articulate their identities, their roles as soldiers, and the violence that they perpetuate and from which they suffer. They are not intended as representative of the views of particular groups in the FARDC (e.g. based on gender, regional, ethnic or class affiliations, or rank or specialisation/function), or of all soldiers of FAZ and FAC background in the FARDC. The soldiers interviewed were selected to include a variety of experiences; the main focus has, however, been on ‘ordinary soldiers'.

The semi-structured interviews addressed how the soldiers themselves saw their role in the armed forces, as well as in relation to civil–military relations.Footnote ⁹ The first part of the interviews focused on the question of what they thought was required to be a good or successful soldier, as well as what it meant to be a successful/good soldier to them. The second part concentrated more specifically on exploring their understandings of masculinity and femininity in relation to soldiering.

The research project was funded by the Swedish International Development Cooperation Agency (Sida-Sarec) and conducted with the permission from the Ministry of Defence in the DRC. Indeed, the Ministry of Defence facilitated the setting up of the interviews. In our initial contact with the Ministry, we were asked what categories of soldiers or officers were interesting for our study. We responded that we wanted to speak with soldiers with different experiences, rank and age, but that they should all have recent experience from being at the war front. On this basis, the contact persons at the Ministry of Defence gave orders to different military sectors/commanders to organise the interview sessions described above.

Initially we were concerned that this arrangement would imply that the soldiers would feel intimidated and only respond to our questions according to what they thought they were supposed to say. However, it seems that this fear was unfounded. Except for a very few cases, the soldiers did not exhibit any inhibition or fear during the interviews. Rather than merely repeating some kind of accommodated image of soldiering and the life in the Army which was born out of a romanticised or routinely memorised dominant discourse, they reflected critically, not only in relation to themselves and their own behaviour, but also and especially to their military superiors/commanders. The soldiers all directed harsh critiques towards not only Army leaders in general, but also individual commanders. The freedom with which the soldiers seemed to articulate their critiques may be seen as reflecting their difficult situation, and their frustrations and feelings of neglect. It may also reflect the fragmented nature of the Army, riddled with lack of loyalty and discipline.Footnote ¹⁰

In the (co)production of a narrative, the person ‘conducting’ the interviews is also surely a co-author of the text produced.Footnote ¹¹ As noted above, Maria Eriksson Baaz, a native Swedish woman, fluent in Lingala and at home in the context of the DRC, conducted the interviews. Her position as both insider (arguably because of the shared language), and outsider (as a civilian and a European) surely influenced what the soldiers chose to relay to her.

The soldiers appeared to view the interview occasion as a long-awaited opportunity to talk about their problems to somebody (at once both an insider, and a European outsider) who was perceived as having contacts with influential people (i.e. the international community and international donors). Most soldiers interviewed urged Maria to re-tell their stories and difficulties to a wider audience. Moreover, given the tense military–civilian relationship, being a foreigner also probably facilitated the interviews by putting the soldiers at ease and breaking down the defences they might otherwise have maintained when talking with a Congolese civilian. As noted above, the military–civilian relationship is very strained and tense in the DRC. As we shall see, the soldiers clearly felt that the civilian population lacked understanding and respect for them and their situation, and see them simply as ‘worthless people’ [batu ya pamba]. For this reason, soldiers often show a very defensive attitude towards critiques of the army by Congolese civilians.

a brief snapshot of the context

The external and internal competition for Congo's vast natural resources, the gradual collapse of state functions and the formal economy over the last 40 years, as well as rampant poverty, contributed to the escalating conflict, often referred to as Africa's ‘first world war’ (Clark Reference Clark2002).Footnote ¹² Four million people are estimated to have died in the DRC since 1998, as a result of the direct and indirect consequences of the ongoing conflict (IGC 2006: 1). While the elections were conducted largely without violence, they have not brought or consolidated the peace process. On the contrary, insecurity has risen in many parts of the DRC in the post election period, resulting in a new wave of displaced people. The insecurity is created by remaining militia groups mainly in Ituri, in the Kivus and Katanga (Mai-Mai). However, much of the insecurity is also created by the FARDC itself, not only through military clashes with the militia groups but through harassment of the civilian population. According to the Global and All-inclusive Agreement, Part VI, signed in Pretoria on 17 December 2002, the signatories (inter alia the FAC, MLC, RCD-N, RCD-ML and the Mai-Mai) should be integrated into a new Congolese Army, the FARDC. The process of DDR and SSR/Military Integration was supposed to be completed in time for the elections in 2006, but has not yet been completed.Footnote ¹³

The slow progress of the DDR process can be attributed to several factors. One overarching reason is to be found in a lack of political commitment. During the transitional period especially, this lack of commitment was a reflection of a deep-seated mistrust between the contending parties manifested in a reluctance to release troops for the DDR/Military Integration process. Another reason for the slow progress of the DDR and SSR processes is that many militia commanders are determined to maintain their hold on power in order to protect economic interests. Most of the armed groups profit from the extraction of natural resources and extortion from the civilian population. Many of the leaders, especially of the Ituri Armed Groups (FACP, FNI, FRPI and UPC), have used killings, intimidation and other abuses in order to prevent their members joining the DDR programme (Amnesty International 2007). Moreover, a major factor which delays and hampers the process has been the failure to provide reintegration support to the fighters who opted for the DDR programme. The institution responsible for implementing the DDR programme (CONADER) has continuously failed to discharge its responsibilities, particularly in paying demobilisation allowances to ex-combatants. Hence, the incentive for demobilisation is very low. There are reports that some militia men who joined the DDR programme have rejoined armed groups hostile to it, due to the failure of CONADER to deliver allowances and community reintegration projects. Others have fled the integration because of the difficult and miserable living conditions (lack of water, food and medical supplies) at both the reception and military integration centres. As one observer concluded ‘a human being cannot survive for a long time [in the centres] even if they are endowed with superhuman capacities for adaptation’ (ibid.: 13).

However, the process of military integration itself also poses problems in addition to DDR (Kibasomba Reference Kibasomba2005; ICG 2006; Walter & Boshoff Reference Walter and Boshoff2006). As Boshoff (Reference Boshoff2004) concludes, military integration has essentially meant ‘the juxtaposition of the units of the former belligerents under, sometimes merely theoretical, integrated command’. These units often remain responsive to the former and current belligerents, and not to the integrated command structures, as illustrated in several occasions during the last years. Another related problem within the Integrated Army has to do with the deficient training received for those integrated into the FARDC, especially officers. According to the peace accord, militia members should be able to keep the rank they received within their respective armed group within the integrated forces. Because high-ranking officers often perceive themselves, and are perceived by others, as ‘too senior for training’, there are consequently several high-ranking officers with no military training at all. For example, there are colonels within the FARDC, no more than 25 years old, who have received no military training and are illiterate. Moreover, there is currently no effective mechanism which identifies and excludes combatants and soldiers who have committed serious human rights abuses (Amnesty International 2007).

In addition to the failure of the military integration itself, reflected in multiple and parallel chains of command, the FARDC faces substantial difficulties in providing equipment and support to the soldiers; salaries are both too low and often delayed, and there is a persistent lack of food and other support. One reflection of the poor level of support is that several of the soldiers interviewed for this research had bought their uniforms with their own money. Such lack of support not only hampers FARDC's military power, but is also a source of insecurity as FARDC soldiers prey on the local population for survival.

Currently, soldiers are among the poorest section of Congolese society. While the minimum salary was officially raised from about US$10 per month to US$20 in 2006, this raise is mainly theoretical. Salaries often remain at US$10, if they are paid at all. Moreover, even $20 is still very low and is insufficient to sustain a family, especially since the Army no longer provides housing/lodging, food rations and medical support. The mortality rate among soldiers' children is very high and school enrolment is practically zero.

As we will see below, dissatisfaction and frustration among the soldiers is great. Also, they lack loyalty towards leaders and superiors, in particular senior officers, whom they see as responsible for their situation. The situation of many officers, in particular senior officers, appears far superior when juxtaposed with the soldiers' circumstances. While officers' salaries are also comparatively low, their position and status both within the Army and outside tend to provide them with greater possibilities to engage in different, both legal and illegal, income earning activities.

In this context, it has to be remembered that the security sector in the DRC has been dysfunctional for a long time. Harassment by security sector staff – including the imposition of illegal taxes and fines, and outright stealing from the population, often involving physical violence – is not only a result of the war but can be traced back to the time of Mobutu, especially the last years of the regime when the situation of the military and the police deteriorated rapidly (e.g. they no longer received salaries). However, such harassment must also be understood as a reflection of the general culture of la débrouillardise or Article 15 created by Mobutu, according to which people were encouraged to fend for themselves by whatever means necessary (Lemarchand Reference Lemarchand2002; MacGaffey & Bazenguissa-Ganga Reference MacGaffey and Bazenguissa-Ganga2002; Trefon Reference Trefon2004; de Villers Reference de Villers, de Villers, Jewsiewicki and Monnier2002).Footnote ¹⁴

The military and the police also were more or less explicitly encouraged to fend for themselves, epitomised in the expression civil azali bilanga ya militaire, ‘the civilian is the [corn] field of the military’. In contrast to what is sometimes assumed, in areas not affected by the war, harassment by militaries and the police was probably more widespread during the latter part of the Mobutu era than it is today. During that time, the population lived in constant fear of being stopped and extorted by militaries, either under the pretext of some real or fake transgression of the law, or simply by referring to the expression above. The deep dissatisfaction of the population vis-à-vis the security apparatus was manifested in the spontaneous public killing of members of the military and police when Laurent Kabila's forces entered Kinshasa. When Laurent Kabila took over power, he decreed law and order also within the Army, including an end to the impunity that characterised much of the Mobutu period. The new ‘professionalism’ of the Army was particularly evident at the beginning of the Laurent Kabila regime, but later deteriorated again.

As a result of the long misuse of power by security sector staff, the police and military enjoy very little legitimacy in the eyes of the civilian population. Policemen and soldiers are often referred to simply as miyibi (‘thieves’). This negative image of the security sector in society also constitutes a threat to a successful professionalisation of the Army. The negative image is manifested not only in fear, but in contempt and both verbal (often) and physical abuse (less often) against security sector staff when they are unarmed and walk alone (interviews; Amnesty International 2007). The contempt and instances of violence against security sector staff, of course, cannot be compared with the violent acts committed by security sector staff themselves. However, the armed forces' meagre legitimacy has a negative impact on the morale of newly trained staff which, in combination with the soldiers' difficult economic situation, feeds into a negative spiral increasing civilian–military hostility.

In sum, the context in which the soldiers live can be depicted as one of lack and want. As we further explore below, this sense of deprivation, and even of victimhood, serves as an underlying theme in the ways in which the soldiers attempt to make sense of themselves as men (and women) and soldiers in relation to the violence which they commit. We now turn to a discussion of the connections between masculinities and warring in the soldiers' texts.

a ‘good soldier’? masculinities and warring

What might it mean to be a good soldier in the Congo at this juncture of ‘peace-building’ (yet when violence still persists)? Reading from the media accounts, such as those cited above, dominant Western representations of soldiers cast them as bestial male killers. This view of the soldier as a killer in possession of ‘more balls than brains’ mirrors many of the views expressed in the Western debate about the feminisation of the military (cf. Metcalf Reference Metcalf1999).Footnote ¹⁵ Arguments against women's entry into the military on equal terms with men often rely on the belief that the military sphere must remain masculine if the armed forces are to carry out their stated missions as protectors and fighters.

Ironically, feminist research on the interconnections between gender and warring also portrays the military as ‘masculine’. As much feminist research has shown, military institutions tend to foster a particular, often ‘macho-violent’, form of masculinity, which poses problems for civil–military relations, especially in post-conflict societies.Footnote ¹⁶ Simply put, men (and women) ‘learn’ to be violent in the military, as soldiering requires a willingness to kill to protect the state/nation. Through militarisation, an ideal type of masculinity becomes linked to the ability and willingness to commit violence. Women's (and ‘femininity's’) association with a need for protection, peacefulness, and life-giving acts as a counterpart to the supposed ‘masculinity’ of protecting, fighting and killing (cf. Connell Reference Connell1995, Reference Connell2000; Connell & Messerschmidt Reference Connell and Messerschmidt2005; Elshtain Reference Elshtain1987; Enloe Reference Enloe1990, Reference Enloe1993; Goldstein Reference Goldstein2001; Vickers Reference Vickers1993). The feminine, which serves as the opposing entity in the binary pair, masculine–feminine, thus can also be seen as the ‘constitutive outside’ to the seemingly inherent masculinity of the military (Pin-Fat & Stern Reference Pin-Fat and Stern2005). This line of argument is familiar to scholars of gender and war. The high incidence of rape in wartime is often partly explained as produced through these linkages, as rape in war can be seen as an effort to humiliate (feminise) enemy men by sullying their women/nation/homeland, and proving them to be inadequate protectors.

We raise the question here of whether or not this generalised story of gendered warring (a story which figures in many of the policy reports which aim to address the problems of gender-based violence) resonates with the ideals of good soldiering among soldiers in the FARDC. As shown below, this story is indeed woven through the soldiers' narratives; however, it is certainly not the dominant one, nor is it faithfully repeated without twists and the re-inscription of meaning. How then did the soldiers we interviewed speak about their identity as soldiers, their aspirations for being ‘good soldiers', as well as the violence that they and their fellow soldiers commit against civilians?

making sense of violence

The soldiers made sense of the prevalence of violence in several interrelated ways, none of which reflected an expression of ‘natural’ (if dormant) violent tendencies, hatred and vengefulness for the enemy, or the protection of a national/ethnic group, religious community or ideological view. Different themes emerged as central to the soldiers' accounts: most notably, poverty and suffering as impetus for enactments of violence. They explained violence as a result either of a more explicit livelihood strategy or, more indirectly, as an expression of suffering and frustration related to poverty and neglect. The general ‘craziness of war’ was also a theme that emerged in the interviews. Additionally, as we saw above, a generally dysfunctional security sector riddled with poor leadership created circumstances in which order and discipline were undermined. In the following paragraphs, we explore these themes in the hopes of better understanding how the soldiers make sense of their own participation in violence.

Perhaps most importantly, poverty and lack of support and the ensuing frustrations loomed large in their stories in general, and also in terms of explaining violence. According to the soldiers, their difficult economic/social situation and the lack of support were connected to the committing of human rights violations, both directly and indirectly. As seen above, the soldiers articulated clearly how they should be and what they should do by defining actions that go against RM. Similarly, they also articulated why they do not always live up to these ideals. A former child soldier (kadogo), now 21 years old, expressed himself as follows:

Many soldiers had similar stories to tell. Hunger and the suffering of the children and the family played a central role in explaining the lack of discipline and in particular ‘illegal taxation’, theft, fraud, selling of weapons and uniforms etc. Hence, the soldiers explained that breaking RM by stealing or collecting illegal taxes became essential in order to provide food and other necessities for oneself and one's family. These accounts often featured a deep-seated feeling of neglect, as well as frustration and dissatisfaction with superiors. It is the neglect of the superiors, they explained, their greed, which destroys the army/discipline and which forces them to act in ways that are ultimately foreign to both the Army and to their own sense of self. One soldier described how, ultimately, there were no ‘bad soldiers', only ‘bad superiors’, whose ‘rottenness’ infected the (true) health of the army as a whole:

Furthermore, human rights violations, especially sexual violence, were also rationalised as somehow reducible to an indirect result of poverty (see Eriksson Baaz & Stern draft ms. a). Poverty and generalised neglect, they explained, lead to violence, not only because they were forced to act in ways that goes against RM in order to make ends meet, but also because of the resulting frustration and anger. In this sense a seemingly cohesive narrative of cause and effect was woven. In the following exchange we can see how two of the soldiers connected poverty to neglect, suffering, frustration, stealing, sabotage, rape, killing and injustice. Furthermore, this account also evoked a sense of being somehow out of control (and therefore not accountable) for the acts one commits.

Additionally, comments such as ‘my wife does not love me anymore’ (which recurred often in the male soldiers' texts) reflect other ways in which the soldiers make sense of the mix of poverty, suffering, frustration and violence – ways which spill over into their role as ‘men’ in the civilian and private spheres. Such unrequited love was explained as a result of their difficult living conditions which made it impossible for them to fulfil their supposed role as ‘the head and provider of the family’. The soldiers recurrently maintained that, for this reason, ‘their wives do not love them anymore’. Moreover, they articulated a fear that their women/wives see other men in order to make ends meet. These accounts of suspicion and frustration of ‘not being able to be a real man and provider of the family’ and (as they put it) ‘keep the woman faithful’ often featured a quite negative and sexualised image of women. Women were here portrayed as unreliable and opportunistic. If a woman sees that other better opportunities present themselves, she will ‘leave you, cheat on you or, if she is a fellow soldier, betray you to the enemy’.Footnote ²⁵

Here we see the way different gender discourses intermesh in the ways that soldiers make sense of, and construct rationalisations for, acts of violence. Surprisingly, many of the female soldiers' texts mirrored these views of (other) women, attesting to the prevalence of a particularly sexist ‘masculinisation’ of the military space as one such gender discourse – a masculinisation which includes the female soldiers who dwell in this space. One female officer explained as follows:

‘The spirit and craziness of war’ and the use of drugs provided another explanation for the violence committed against the civilian population. One soldier described the effects of war in the following way:

This explanation resonates with more generalised notions of warfare and the psychological trauma that afflict many soldiers in diverse situations.Footnote ²⁷ This soldier seems to imply that violence, rape, etc. becomes an outlet for the ‘spirit’ of war, alluding to how warring is an unnatural and extreme state which precipitates ‘going crazy’ and ‘bad rapes’. The reasons for the violence, he tells us, lie outside the soldiers' ‘normal’ character; instead, violence is induced by drugs and the craziness of war, which ‘destroys’ the otherwise healthy ‘minds of people’.

Widespread impunity provides a third explanation for violent acts in the soldiers' texts.Footnote ²⁸ The respondents underscored that ending the violence which they and their colleagues commit could only be achieved through adequate ‘punishment’ for crimes committed. They linked the need for punishment to the overarching need for order, training and improved conditions described above. Indeed, they recurrently recommended introducing severe punishments, preferably involving public humiliation. Two soldiers explained as follows:

The soldiers' emphasis on the potentially deterring influence of a severe punishment system for rapes can be read as a call for a method to re-instil ‘law and order’, as well as restore the ‘minds of the people’ that the lack of discipline and ‘spirit of war’ have destroyed. The soldier who does not comply with the notion of a ‘good soldier’, decreed through law, as well as designated through the discourses of soldering reflected in their narratives, must be ‘expelled’ – literally – out of military space. In this sense, the soldier would be returned to his previous status as ‘civilian’. The dividing lines between the military space as one of law and order, and the (feminised) civilian space in which people ‘do not know how to follow rules and orders’, were thus reinscribed.

Through expelling the dangerous, even infectious, elements which ‘rot the rest of the oranges’, the ‘true’ identity of the military could seemingly be re-established and re-produced. The example of deviance re-established the salience of the ‘norm’. Furthermore, similar mechanisms would come into play in the private, civilian sphere: the cast-out soldier also became deviant in relation to his position in the family. In this sense, the soldiers tell us, extreme measures, in the form of deterring examples, were needed to return the Congolese soldier (here understood to be male), and the soldier as exemplar of the Congolese man/husband/father, to a form of normality that had been disfigured by both warring and by poverty and suffering.

*  *  *

In the above paragraphs, we have shown how the soldier's interview texts challenge the dominant representation of soldiers and combatants in the DRC. Although they also reproduce gendered discourses positing the strong, brave soldier as masculine, they overwhelmingly embrace discipline, rationality, order and education. Moreover, they refute the notion of a soldier who is fuelled by violence and ethnic hatred, and who uncontrollably commits violent acts. The aspired-to, celebrated soldier, their texts tells us, is not the strong, tough, merciless fighter, but a soldier who follows orders and even ‘sits behind a desk’. Clearly, soldiers in the FARDC laud the military code in similar ways that soldiers in other militaries do, both in Africa and globally. Indeed, they offer reasons for joining the armed forces which resonate with the values commonly understood as belonging to rational enlightened modernity: economic and educational opportunity, as well as the much less prevalent discourse reproducing the macho soldier of Western films.

When examined together, the (sometimes seemingly contradictory) ways that soldiers make sense of their identities as soldiers and their own participation in violence emphasise distinctions between idealised notions of soldiering and the circumstances that hinder them from realising their ideals. In their attempts to arrive at cohesive narratives, they distinguish between the ‘normal’ and the ‘deviant’, and offer explanations as to why the normal had become deviant. Indeed, in the above paragraphs, we have shown how the soldiers' different notions of ‘normal’ and ‘deviant’ upset and complicate the dominant discourses about Congolese soldiers and combatants which set the stage for the writing of this article.Footnote ²⁹ For instance, instead of accepting violent qualities as ‘normal’, the soldiers explain why the normal becomes deviant under certain circumstances, most of which are familiar in other contexts of armed conflict where soldiers commit acts of violence. In contrast to what is often assumed, they make sense of such unfortunate and undesirable violence as the ‘result’ of suffering and poor leadership, and not as the accepted natural state. In this sense, the soldiers neither celebrate violence nor do they represent it as central in their constructions of an idealised notion of soldiering. They convey instead that violence occurs when they are unable to adequately reside in the subject positions allotted them in the dominant discourses of soldiering.

Additionally, the soldiers' testimonies invite further analyses of how discourses of violence are reproduced: ‘undesirable’ acts of violence are facilitated by the production of ‘desirable’ acts of violence – and the subjects who are supposed to commit these acts – within military institutions and discourses of militarisation. These subject positions, however, are impossible, leaving the subjects who are to be ‘hailed’ into these discourses with little room for manoeuvre (Hall Reference Hall, Hall and duGay1996). Distinctions between the desirable and undesirable blur, as violence and dehumanisation become the norm.

Furthermore, listening carefully to the accounts of those who commit acts of violence complicates simplistic distinctions between victim and perpetrator (‘villain’ and ‘sufferer’), by revealing the shifting and complex web of power relations and the seeming vortex of violence in the DRC (cf. Moser & Clark Reference Moser and Clark2001). The soldiers' account tells us that this dire context of violence simultaneously produces both ‘villains’ and ‘victims’, turning violent perpetrators into victims of both the violence they commit and the power relations which occasion their suffering. The ways in which their texts force a blurring of these distinctions helps humanise simplistic portrayals of the (masculine) violent Congolese warrior as bestial and the violence he/she commits as somehow ‘natural’.

Hence, considering the ways in which soldiers (and often ‘perpetrators’) understand themselves and the violence they commit provides a vital context for understanding the seemingly endless ripples of violence in the Congolese context. While in no way condoning or excusing violent acts, or reducing the complicated mechanisms of gendered violence intermeshed with mechanism of militarisation and warfare more generally to the ‘explanations’ given by the soldiers themselves, such accounts are vital for achieving a more full-bodied understanding of the way violence is perceived and experienced also by those who are its perpetrators.

In sum, in challenging dominant representations of soldiers and warring in the DRC by paying close attention to the voices of the ‘perpetrators’ themselves, we hope to invite further inquiry into the particular discursive as well as material circumstances of the armed conflict in the DRC, so as to better redress the complex and interrelated context in which ‘people in uniforms’ do terrible things.