United we stand

The UN is a very important player in the Congo. With more than 26,000 employees in the peace-keeping force alone, and a major presence from all the other major UN agencies such as the World Food Programme, UNICEF and the UN Development Programme, their expenditure on housing and logistical support is truly massive. If they were to leave, it is said, the rents of housing in Kinshasa would halve, and you can be sure that several landlords would fall on their swords. After all, once you’ve got used to making 30% return on you capital, it’s tough to go back into survival mode.

The UN also, of course, employs thousands of lower paid Congolese: the cleaners, drivers, secretaries, junior professionals etc. Pay is good for everyone – as I mentioned a few months ago, the cleaning staff get almost as much in a month as a mid-to-senior level civil servant gets in a year. Without the UN their lives would be very different, and most would be out of work.

So strong is the need to spend, rather than save, money, that they have standardised allowances for staff with absurd results. For example, the wife of an Ambassador, who had been working in the Congo for a year, was offered a job with a UN agency. It was a senior job, and she would be getting a salary even higher than her husband.

But when it came to signing the contract she couldn’t believe her eyes: she would also be paid a $10,000 moving allowance, and $5,000 a month housing allowance.

“But,” she said, being fundamentally honest, “this can’t be right, I am already living here so do not need a moving allowance, and I already have a house so do not need a housing allowance.”

“Madam,” came the reply, “your personal circumstances are of no relevance to us. These are standard allowances and you will be paid them no matter whether you require them or not.”

Of course the various UN agencies, especially the peacekeepers, need transport for materials, food and equipment. They have their own aircraft but they are not adequate for the work. So they must send goods through local carriers.

They approached one of the biggest transport companies asking whether they could send a shipment by river from Kinshasa to Kisangani.

“Yes, of course we can, provided you book the shipment in advance.”

“What is your rate?”

“$48 a ton, or $40 a ton if it is a complete shipload.”

“Agreed,” said the UN man, and that seemed to be that.

A few days later the shipper received the contract. The rate was $65 a ton. He called back to ask what was going on.

“I’m sorry I didn’t explain,” came the reply, “that is the rate that we pay.”

Then the voice is lowered, conspiratorially: the nod and a wink sort of tone. “Between you and me, if we pay you less our commission is reduced proportionately, so we wouldn’t want to do that, would we?”

Not long after, the same company, which operates the largest airline in the Congo, had a similar request for air freight quotations. Even though he was dealing with different people, the negotiations followed exactly the same pattern. They refused to pay the rate quoted (even though, naturally enough, it was quite high in comparison to the rate they charge local firms) and insisted on paying at a higher rate.

So what did our already wealthy (very) entrepreneur do? He turned them down, saying that he refused to do business with dishonest people.

Good for him.

Schizolingua

Everyone knows, particularly the Chinese, that English is the language that sells. Thus, if you buy a door mat in French speaking Congo, it will nevertheless proudly proclaim: WELCOME. And this is precisely how you are greeted at the door of our office.

I’m not sure if people in the Congo object to this linguistic imperialism, especially as it comes with Chinese goods which means that they are cheap. It might even be a status symbol to have an English-speaking door mat. After all, many people probably wish that they had been born in an English speaking country, which would have opened so many more commercial doors. And american films and music are hot!

If they didn’t hate Rwanda so much (as the purported aggressor in the conflicts in the East) they would admire the way that it changed itself overnight, in 2008, from francophone to anglophone. The motives, mind you, were pretty silly: a French judge found that President Kagame, in his then military role, had assassinated the Hutu President – an act that triggered the genocide. This judgement made President Kagame so angry that the announced that Rwanda would no longer use French as its official language[1].

Back to the Congo where there’s certainly great interest in English: two years ago, the Congolese Minister responsible for higher education announced that all universities should be bilingual within five years. Unrealistic though this may have been, it reflected a national desire to escape the dominance of francophonie.

Even the bank notes have the denominations (for example, FIVE HUNDRED FRANCS) written in English as well as French.

But last year, with huge fanfare, the Congo hosted the biennial Francophonie summit, and the Congo was put under great pressure to champion francophonie. Since then the voices asking for more English have become muted, and there may be changes afoot.  

The new bank notes, for example, follow a completely different design, without any English translations. And when we bought a new mat for the front door of the office, (“Welcome” having become shredded with age), the message was clear: BIENVENUE.

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[1] Rwanda has since denied this link. They now claim that it was a commercial decision as their main trading partners are all English speaking.

What's in a name?

A lot apparently. At least Mobutu thought so.

Two years after seizing power, he creating a political party to which all citizens automatically belonged and which had, as its objects, nationalism, revolution and authenticity. The first two were easily implemented: he nationalised the mines and other big companies, and outlawed foreign participation in trade.

Authenticity needed a bit more thought, and it was four more years before he launched his official campaign.

His first act was to rename the country Zaire.

Next he tackled the symbol of westernisation: clothing. This was not a new idea. Mao had done it in China, and there is considerable evidence that Mobutu saw himself as the Mao of Africa – in power terms, even if not in either political or ethical ones. The Zairean version of men’s clothing was a jacket in the form of a close fitting shirt, with pockets on the front, worn outside the trousers. African prints were a popular cloth for them. Once this had been decreed as the national form of dress it was illegal to wear a jacket and tie.

Then came names. We probably shouldn’t be surprised that he rejected his Christian names, Joseph-Desiré – so effeminate! So he ordered everyone to replace their Christian or European names with Zairean ones. Priests were liable to five years in gaol if they were found guilty of baptising people with Christian names. Finally, he decided that everyone should also have a “post-name” after their surname to give them an additional identifier. The post-name was normally supposed to be that of one or more of your ancestors, but it could be the name of a village, a clan or some personal attribute. 

Mobutu had great fun renaming himself. He chose the name to end names: Mobutu Sese Seko Nkuku Ngbendu Wa Za Banga ("The all-powerful warrior who, because of his endurance and inflexible will to win, goes from conquest to conquest, leaving fire in his wake”).

The post-name is the last name but is not the family name, which is the second to last one: thus President Kabila’s name is written Joseph Kabila Kabange. This causes no end of confusion in official documents, and sorting names in alphabetical order etc. But if you ask a Congolese his name, he will first give you his surname (family name) which is actually his middle name, followed by his pre-name. Then, if you ask, he will give you his post-name. Confused? 

War and the art of procrastination

After the assassination of Laurent Kabila there was a long period in which multiple factions in the Congo jostled for power. A prolonged conference in South Africa resulted in agreement about the constitutional principles which all sides would accept. Three years later the new constitution was enacted.

What is very interesting is that the model adopted had strong similarities with the South African one. In the latter case the objective was to protect the rights of minorities such as Afrikaners and the interests represented by the white parties, and minority black parties such as Buthelezi’s Inkhata Freedom Party. The constitution stopped short of the federal model, but it entrenched the concept of provinces with their own elected government and legislature, in which central government could not interfere.

In the Congo, there were similar fears concerning the likelihood of central government being dominated by a single party and a dominant ethnic group. Not surprisingly, the resulting settlement was the same as in South Africa – establishing 15 additional Provinces (making 26 in all) each with their own government and legislature, their own revenue raising powers, and a guaranteed 40% of central government’s revenues.

For cynical politicians the nice thing is that once a constitution has been adopted, it is not so easy to force a government to implement it. In the Congo, where the courts are arms of central government, it is practically impossible.

So, guess what? Nothing has been done. After all, who wants to share power voluntarily?  Only saints like Mandela, not Kabila. So no new provinces have been created, in spite of a constitutional provision that the last date for the process was 36 months after it was enacted. In a belated attempt to rectify the situation, the constitution was hurriedly amended to postpone the creation of new provinces “until circumstances are right.”

As for provincial revenues, they are receiving only half of what they are supposed to get.

This has made a lot of people angry, especially when they contrast conditions in Kinshasa with their own situation. Of course there is always the option of going to war – which is what a lot of people have done. But these local bandits are fighting less for constitutional change than for a slice of the local economic cake, and it’s easier to get that by looting and harassment than entering the political fray. However, the M23, the largest of the current rebel groups, has made more decentralisation of power one of its central demands.

Will they get it? Of course not. Here’s why:

Elections: Provincial elections were supposed to be held last year, but there’s simply no money for them. Nor is there an electoral commission to plan and implement them: the last one was so discredited by the Presidential and Parliamentary elections in 2011 that a new Act of Parliament has been drafted but there is fierce resistance to government’s proposal by civil society so it has been deferred several times.

Government: Each province is supposed to have ten Ministers and supporting staff. In the case of the 15 new provinces there are no offices for them, and to build them will cost billions and take many years.

Assemblies: Each province is supposed to have a Provincial Assembly with its own supporting staff. Apart from the problem of elections, where will they meet (imagine building 15 houses of parliament), who will pay them, etc etc?

So Kabila and his cabinet are able to claim that they would love to decentralise, but they simply cannot so due to a lack of funds. And that, of course, is the fault of the donors. Nothing to do with political will. Nothing at all.

Do we exist?

I was more than a little amused when I received my first airline tickets from the US which referred to Kinshasa as being in “Zaire”. Zaire, as readers will know, was Mobutu’s name for the Congo when he launched his indigenisation campaign (apparently loosely modelled on Mao’s Cultural Revolution). It was at that time that he also renamed all the towns, so that, for example Leopoldville became Kinshasa. However, in 1997, when Laurent Kabila overthrew Mobutu, one of his first acts was to rename the country the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

So when you get an official document locating Kinshasa in Zaire you begin to wonder. At first I thought it was a once-off aberration, but no, right until late 2011, it was there – see picture (don’t be confused by the Ethiopian Airlines reference – the airline used made no difference). Since then, someone in authority must have asked a question “Where is Zaire?”  When she didn’t get a satisfactory response, no doubt after much head scratching, she must have decided to omit it altogether. Because now all the tickets simply state Kinshasa, with no clue as to which country it’s in. Just as all UN maps state that the boundaries on their maps do not represent the official position of the United Nations, the airline ticketing system in the US obviously preferred to avoid official endorsement of the name change made in 1997 by omitting it altogether.

This was all triggered by a recent internet incident. I am pestered by a web-site called Booking.com which obtains cheap deals at hotels. Since we regularly book visitors into hotels in Kinshasa, and I know the going rates, I thought I would play a trick on it and see what offers it had for our hotels. (If you are wondering whether any hotels in Kinshasa might show up on a standard internet site, let me confirm that at least two, the ex-Intercontinental Hotel, now called The Grand Hotel, and operated by Lonrho Hotels; and the Memling Hotel, which is operated by Sabena Hotels, are part of international chains).

So, after taking quite a while, here’s what the site found:

    Kinshasa

    We think you are looking for one of these five options:

    Cities:              Las Vegas

    Airports:          North Las Vegas

                            McCarran

    Hotels:             Kinshasa Hotel, Dubai

                            Kinshasa Hotel Branch, Dubai

That proves it, doesn’t it? We don’t exist. Quite a nice feeling.

Rebel rousing

Here’s a way to end wars. You invite the protagonists to a luxury hotel, put them and their huge retinues in the best rooms, and feed and drink them without stint. This is what Uganda has been doing with the Congolese Government and the M23 rebels.

This treatment does not accelerate peace, of course: in fact it puts everything on hold, because the fighting factions would much rather be in the grand hotel than roughing it in the bush.

However, according to a rumour from a normally reliable source a couple of weeks ago the whole deal started to become unstuck. The rebels allegedly demanded “per diems” failing which they would leave Kampala and go back to fight. In other words not satisfied with the fact that they were being housed and fed, they also wanted pocket money for wine, women and song. In the circles in which I move such per diems would be in the region of $20 - $40 a day. A modest allowance for minor expenditure. In those circles, I’m sure that $200 a day would be considered more appropriate.

Uganda was not, apparently, pleased. But a few days later talks resumed, and within a few days the parties had even signed an agreement acknowledging that there was wrong on both sides and they promised to try and settle their differences. That’s the most progress we’ve seen since early December. Viva the per diem – saviour of the Congo!

The blue light brigade

As a rough rule of thumb, the larger and the more showy presidential motorcades are, the worse the President really is. You can contrast Nyerere who used to ride in a Peugeot 504, sitting next to the driver, with Mugabe who has a massive entourage of flashy black Mercedes, motorbikes and the rest. Woe betide anyone who does not pay due respect to this show of might. Anyone not stopping instantaneously, and getting right off the road, is considered insolent, if not traitorous, and beaten up or hauled off to prison or both. Interestingly South Africa is one of the major culprits. Even minor Ministers love to surround themselves with these flashy motorcades, and their security men are continuously being sued for assault due to their enthusiasm for punishing offenders.

Of course there’s one country which outdoes the rest in their obsession with security and therefore absurd motorcades: the mighty U.S. of A. When Clinton came to Johannesburg they even closed many of the roads on which he would be travelling: Not just ordinary roads, but motorways – in both directions. 

One of the tricks they like to play is to have several dummy cars, so the assassin cannot tell which one the Big Man is in, which makes the show even more silly. I saw it once in Ramallah, on the West Bank, when Hilary Clinton was there: there were five identical black four wheel drives with heavily tinted windows, all driving at twice the safe speed. Maybe she wasn’t even in any, who knows. Assuming she was in one of them, what she felt like is not known: did she enjoy it, or did she feel a bit silly – or arrogant maybe? Because it is above all the arrogance of these shows that annoys people, especially when “important” people think they have the right to close roads in the middle of rush hour.

So where, on this scale, would you expect Kabila to fall? Pretty near the top, I would expect, right next to Mugabe. But no, he’s not like that at all, and though this is one of the few nice things I can think to say about him, I think it’s quite endearing.

He evidently despises all this security fuss. We were out in a park once when we (almost) bumped into him walking along, evidently paying a surprise visit to a nearby school. Yes, he had bodyguards front and back, but there was no fuss. We see him driving himself in a black and very well polished, Land Cruiser along the river bank, looking both happy and ordinary. Sometimes he gets bored with cars, and drives a quad bike instead. The security people must hate it, and he is always followed by a convoy of cars bristling with guns, and an ambulance at the rear in case he has a crash, but he does it. You also even see him, in an official motorcade of five or eight cars, soldiers back and front and numerous officials in tow, driving himself.

Maybe he does this because he spent several years in Tanzania and learned how Nyerere endeared himself to his subjects by his humility. Or maybe, and more likely, he’s like a little boy who wants to have fun.

There’s a nice story about Nyerere: he was flying to London for some international meeting regarding the liberation of Zimbabwe. After they had been airborne for a few hours, he was surprised to see Joshua Nkomo walking down the aisle, exercising his greatly overweight body. They were indeed as surprised as each other, and when they got talking Nyerere discovered that Mugabe was on the same flight. How come they hadn’t seen each other before? Why, Mugabe and Nkomo, using funds given by well-wishers for the liberation of Rhodesia, were flying business class. Nyerere, true to form, was travelling economy.

That’s something that Kabila will never emulate. NEVER.