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The First and Second Republic

Dalam dokumen The role of narrative in healing in Rwanda. (Halaman 40-43)

CHAPTER 2: BEFORE THE GENOCIDE

2.5. Rwandan identity after colonialism

2.5.2. The First and Second Republic

in 1962, it was independence from the Tutsi monarchy rather than Belgian

colonialism. Thus it can be seen how, following Jenkins’ model, identity categories changed due to external definition, then became internalized, and then became lived. By the time of the revolution, Rwandans were fighting a racial battle but they were fighting along identity categories or definitions that had, perhaps, not existed prior to the 1800s.

notwithstanding, the southerners were monopolizing the benefits of power” (1999, 60). Attacks on Tutsi in early 1973 were either blamed on the southerners “who hoped to minimize differences with northerners by reminding them of the common enemy; others laid them to northerners who hoped to create sufficient disorder to legitimate a coup d’état by the army” (1999, 61).

When Habyarimana did take power in July 1973, he claimed that it was to ‘restore order and national unity’ (Des Forges, 1999, 61). However, Aible Twagilimana argues that few researchers give enough attention to the effects of regionalism in Rwanda. He even argues that genocide can be as much attributed to ethnic tension as to the north-south divide (2003, xx). He argues that for centuries power lay in the hands of southerners; first the Tutsi monarchy which was based in the south, and then later under Kayibanda. He describes how until the arrival of the colonialists, the north, and especially Gisenyi and Ruhengeri, were independent from the Rwandan monarchy, and ruled by Hutu chieftans (2003, xx). The desire to place power in the hands of northerners was more important to Habyrimana and his supporters even than that Hutu power would be maintained.

Prunier stresses that under Habyarimana’s rule, during the Second Republic, although everything seemed peaceful and stable, the underlying atmosphere of the regime was frightening.

“Tutsi were still ‘foreign invaders’ who had come from afar, but now this meant that they could not really be considered as citizens. Their

government had been grandiose and powerful: in the new version of Rwandese ideology, it had been a cruel and homogeneously oppressive tyranny. The Hutu had been the ‘native peasants’, enslaved by the aristocratic invaders: they were now the only legitimate inhabitants of the country. Hutu were the silent demographic majority” (1995, 80).

The group supporting Habyarimana in power was often called the ‘akazu’ or ‘little house’, and included Habyarimana’s wife and her relatives, all originating from the Ruhengeri-Gisenyi area. But even here, Prunier describes how the president and his wife favoured those from Gisenyi over those from Ruhengeri (1995, 86).

Pottier argues how all these internal conflicts within ‘Hutu power’ groups were

disguised by ethnic tensions to ‘buy the loyalty’ of the Hutu majority. He goes further in saying those in power were an elite who maintained their power over those they oppressed by manipulating ethnic tensions, leading the Hutu on the street `to believe they were both fighting a common enemy (2002, 10).

But the political and social conditions prior to the 1990s were not all negative.

Especially at the start of Habyarimana’s reign in 1973, things looked very hopeful.

Although Tutsi were politically marginalised on the basis of ‘majority’ rule, there was a quota system for education and jobs, and there was also a group of elite, highly educated Tutsi who were well-connected with foreigners and worked with foreign NGO’s. Habyarimana also brought a semblance of peace and stability to Rwanda. This was partly achieved by outlawing not only political parties but the entire public political sphere. The government was called the National

Development Council and Rwanda was seen as a ‘development dictatorship’

(Prunier, 1995, 77). Prunier writes, “Rwanda was poor, Rwanda was clean and Rwanda was serious; it had no time to lose in the frivolous business of political discussion” (1995, 77). If one asks Rwandans today how Rwanda was prior to genocide, many share stories of how peaceful and harmonious it was. And for many Rwandans who went about their daily lives, didn’t get involved with politics, went to church every Sunday and worked hard, their lives, whether Hutu or Tutsi were probably just that, peaceful and harmonious, although perhaps poor.

But Prunier points out that under the surface were many shadows. One such shadow was umuganda, communal development labour made compulsory by the government. It was intended to take two days of the average Rwandans time but often cost them four or more. Another shadow was the shift in power, not only amongst the elite but also amongst every Hutu. Just as the first Rwandan ideology had been a perfect construct to legitimise domination by a high-lineage Tutsi over everyone else, the new ideology allowed the new elite legitimate power to dominate over everyone. Prior to the 1959 revolution, even the poorest Tutsi felt proud to belong to the ethnic aristocracy, even though it didn’t help their poverty stricken state. Similarly, after 1959, the Hutu poor somehow felt they shared power. Prunier argues how foreign aid workers collaborated in reinforcing this new ideology, as Belgians did with the former ideology. And, as was the case during the colonial period, the Catholic church played a role in educating all

Rwandans in the new ideology. Prunier writes, concerning the Catholic church, “It had admired the Tutsi and helped them rule, but now admired the Hutu and helped them rule” (1995, 81). So although on the surface things may have looked ideal (a peaceful, stable, hard working society, with little crime) “this agreeable façade was built on an extremely dangerous ideological foundation” (Prunier, 1995, 82).

Dalam dokumen The role of narrative in healing in Rwanda. (Halaman 40-43)