The histories of Burundi and its northern neighbour Rwanda provide interesting comparisons and contrasts. This is not simply because they share the same ethnic composition, but because by the time they were absorbed into the German colonial empire in the late 19th century, both were long-established kingdoms. In other words, Burundi and Rwanda are unusual among modern African states in that they are not simply artificial creations of the colonial era.

The kingdom of Burundi developed its present territorial base starting in the 17th century. Under the leadership of a royal clan, Hima pastoralists entered the country from southern Ethiopia and extended their control over the indigenous Bantu societies, which they then assimilated. Further conquest was prevented by the proximity of other powerful states, but in the early 19th century, expansion was resumed to include areas that now form part of Rwanda and Tanzania.¹

Though the population of Burundi essentially consisted of a Hutu majority and a Tutsi minority, princes of the royal blood — the ganwa — though of Tutsi origin, came to be seen as a separate ethnic group which softened the impact of Tutsi domination. This played an important part in uniting the kingdom, and in explaining the lasting attachment of the Hutu peasantry to the monarchy and the figure of the king, or mwami. During this period, an important rift emerged between two of the ganwa lineages, the Bezi and Batare, that was to have significant repercussions later.²

The Berlin Conference of 1885 designated Burundi as part of Germany’s sphere of interest in Africa, but a military post was established only in 1896, and only in 1899 was the military district of Ruanda-Urundi created. German policy in the protectorate wavered between support for the mwami and attempts to limit his powers. The Germans chose to rule indirectly through local chiefs, and little was done to establish any permanent administration.³

Ruanda-Urundi fell to Allied forces during World War I, and Belgium established military rule in 1916, intending to use the territory as a bargaining counter in eventual peace negotiations. In 1919, Belgium received the mandate of the League of Nations to administer Ruanda-Urundi as a trust territory.⁴

Belgian trusteeship, with its imposition of forced labour, taxes and campaigns of pacification, added to the potential for conflict in Burundi, with a number of peasant uprisings in the 1920s and 1930s. These were mostly directed against the Batare faction, which was seen as being allied with the Belgian overlords. Indeed, the Belgians seemed eager to have a Batare prince succeed Mwambutsa as mwami.⁵

As in its other colonial possessions, Belgium made little provision for indigenous political development or the eventual transfer of power to independent states. The transfer of the mandate to the auspices of the United Nations after World War II brought additional pressure to bear on Belgium, whose colonial policies had long been the target of international criticism.⁶

Only in November 1959 did Brussels commit itself to a programme of political reform, which would see the gradual devolution of legislative powers to an indirectly elected council. The mwami would act as a constitutional monarch. But by this time, however, Belgium’s plans had already been overtaken by events. Several local political parties had already been formed, including the National Unity and Progress Party (UPRONA), launched in 1958 by the mwami’s eldest son, Prince Louis Rwagasore and Léopold Biha. UPRONA was initially dedicated to the maintenance of traditional institutions, centred on the mwami and the Bezi lineage, but moved away from this policy as a rift developed between Rwagasore and his father. Appalled by events in neighbouring Rwanda — where Tutsi domination had been overthrown in a bloody peasant uprising — Rwagasore sought to make UPRONA a genuinely national party. The other principal political grouping, the Christian Democratic Party (PDC), was established by the Batare lineage as a counter to UPRONA. With its more moderate programme, the PDC drew the open support of the Belgian colonial administration, which tried to place every obstacle in the way of the more nationalist UPRONA, depicted as anti-Belgian and pro-Communist.

Ironically, Belgium’s open hostility to Rwagasore merely augmented his excellent nationalist credentials. In January 1961, the UN finally pressured Belgium into agreeing to dismiss the tame interim government it had installed and hold legislative elections in September. UPRONA scored an expected victory, though by a far wider margin than the Belgians or PDC had anticipated, securing some eighty per cent of the vote and 58 of the 64 seats in the legislature. Prince Rwagasore was appointed prime minister, but on 13 October, he was assassinated by agents of the PDC, perhaps acting with Belgian encouragement.⁷

Viewed from today’s perspective, one may speculate about the historic significance of Rwagasore’s murder, for his death not only deprived Burundi of its ablest leader, but destroyed the ethnic cohesion he had struggled so hard to achieve. It must also be remembered that all this occurred in a climate of fear aggravated by the Hutu revolution in Rwanda, which saw thousands of Rwandan Tutsi lose their lives and thousands more flee into exile, many to Burundi, where they helped stoke the fires of intolerance.

The Kamenge riots, following hard upon independence in January 1962, signalled the beginnings of the descent into endemic ethnic violence. Tutsi militants of the UPRONA youth wing attacked and killed a number of Hutu trade unionists and supporters of the People’s Party (PP). This shook the prominent Hutus within the UPRONA leadership and intensified the struggle for control of the party. By September UPRONA and the administration were effectively split along the Hutu/Tutsi divide, and government was virtually paralysed.⁸

At this stage, the mwami, Mwambutsa, intervened to fill the power vacuum. Increasingly, the court extended its authority, though this alienated the political class on both sides. The crisis came to a head in 1965. In January, the mwami dismissed his Tutsi prime minister and replaced him with a Hutu, Pierre Ngendendumwe, who was shot dead by a Rwandan Tutsi refugee three days later. The mwami now called legislative elections in an attempt to defuse the crisis. This had precisely the opposite result, for Hutu candidates took 23 of the 33 seats in the National Assembly, only to find themselves denied power by the mwami’s appointment of court favourite, Léopold Biha as prime minister. Local government was also restructured to reinforce royal control.⁹

On 19 October 1965, a group of Hutu army and gendarmerie officers shot the prime minister and left him for dead. They then attacked the palace, where they were repulsed by loyal troops under Captain Michel Micombero. Elsewhere, other Hutu troops mutinied against their Tutsi officers, and by the time order had been restored, the mwami had lost his nerve and fled across the border into Zaïre. This failed coup provided the pretext for Tutsi retaliation that resulted in thousands of deaths. The army and gendarmerie were purged of Hutus and every Hutu political leader of any standing was killed. Power was now almost exclusively a Tutsi preserve, with government in the hands of Tutsi soldiers, militants and politicians. Some Hutu peasants tried in vain to raise a revolt in the countryside in support of the mwami, leading to yet another vicious retaliation in which thousands died.¹⁰

Mwambutsa attempted to preserve the monarchy by sending his son, Charles Ndizeye, back to Burundi to act as Prince Regent. On 8 July 1966, Charles revoked the Constitution, dismissed Biha’s administration and declared himself mwami as Ntare V. He appointed Micombero prime minister, but their collaboration proved short-lived, and in November, Micombero deposed Ntare and proclaimed a republic with himself as president, prime minister, minister of defence and head of UPRONA.¹¹

The abolition of the monarchy removed the last potentially unifying force in Burundi and opened the way for the naked expression of Tutsi domination. A further alleged Hutu coup attempt in September 1969 provided the justification to complete the purge of Hutus in the military, which now dominated the government. A climate of fear came to pervade public life, and deepened still further in 1972. In March, an increasingly paranoid Micombero, who was obsessed with the idea that the deposed mwami was raising a mercenary force to overthrow the government, had Ntare abducted and returned to Burundi with the assistance of Uganda’s Idi Amin. On 29 April, Micombero dismissed his cabinet and a few hours later a Hutu insurrection began. Ntare was summarily executed to prevent him from becoming a rallying point for the rebels, who initially gained the upper hand, slaughtering some 2 000 to 3 000 Tutsis. Micombero appealed to Tanzania and Zaïre for assistance, receiving ammunition from the former and troops from the latter. The Tutsi now launched genocidal reprisals, eliminating almost the entire educated Hutu population. As many as 200 000 may have lost their lives in this bloodbath, which was intended not only to prevent any repetition of the Hutu victory in Rwanda, but to terrorise the Hutu majority into submission. The elimination of the entire educated strata of Hutu reduced the masses to an underclass and ensured that only Tutsi would qualify for admission to the army, civil service or higher education.¹²

Some 150 000 Hutu fled the country, keeping the memory of these terrible events alive, and launching occasional raids from their refugee camps, which also saw the birth of the radical and militant Palipehutu party in 1980. Ironically, the horrors of 1972 acted not only to cow the majority, but also to create an awareness among the Tutsi of their own likely fate in future.

In 1974, Micombero introduced a new Constitution which made him, as head of UPRONA, automatically head of state. His grip became increasingly unsteady, however, and his administration ramshackle, and on 1 November 1976, he was overthrown by his cousin, Lieutenant-Colonel Jean-Baptiste Bagaza. The head of the Second Republic sought to bring more order to the state to entrench Tutsi hegemony. Although the new government preached national unity, banned reference to ethnic origins and undertook a programme of radical land reform, it was still unable to disguise its essential nature. UPRONA was now simply a vehicle for Tutsi domination and democratic reforms carried little conviction.¹³

Between 1984 and 1987, the Bagaza regime’s human rights record deteriorated markedly, as the state came into direct conflict with the church, which it suspected of stirring up Hutu resistance. UPRONA’s anti-clerical campaign backfired, however, by antagonising the country’s principal aid donors, Belgium and France. This coincided with unrest in the military over Bagaza’s plans to economise by forcing certain officers into early retirement. While Bagaza was in Quebec for the Francophone summit on 3 September 1987, a number of these disgruntled officers acted, placing Major Pierre Buyoya in power in a bloodless coup.¹⁴

Bagaza’s government was dismissed, the Constitution suspended, the national assembly and UPRONA’s central committee dissolved. On 9 September, the new 31-member Military Committee of National Salvation (CMSN) appointed Buyoya president of the Third Republic. Tutsi supremacy was still assured, though announcements of a relaxation of state policies encouraged some Hutu to believe that an improvement in their circumstances might be imminent. By contrast, Tutsi hardliners were alarmed at signs of concessions and compromise, and officials simply refused to implement softer policies. Confusion and disappointment arose among the Hutu majority as a result, and in August 1988, violence broke out in the north of the country, where a number of Tutsi families were massacred. Reprisals followed, and some 20 000 Hutu lost their lives and another 60 000 fled into Rwanda. Fortunately, the international response was stronger than in 1972, and helped to prevent a descent into wholesale genocide. President Buyoya also indicated some sympathy for the legitimate grievances of the Hutu, and signalled this by appointing a number of them to his cabinet, including the prime minister, Adrien Sibomana.¹⁵

Although Buyoya’s reformist credentials still failed to convince a number of Hutu leaders, they created sufficient alarm among Tutsi hardliners to provoke several coup attempts over the next two years. By late 1991, however, Buyoya’s government had produced a draft charter of national unity and was moving carefully towards the introduction of a democratic system. These reforms were approved by referendum in March 1992, and the following month political parties were permitted to form.¹⁶

On 1 June 1993 the first presidential elections were held under the new Constitution and were won by Melchior Ndadaye of the Burundi Democratic Front (FRODEBU), who took 65 per cent of the vote to Buyoya’s 32 per cent. FRODEBU also emerged as the most successful party in the legislative elections, securing 71 per cnet of the vote, and 65 of the 81 seats. UPRONA took the remaining sixteen seats.

Another coup attempt was thwarted early in July, and on the 10th, Ndadaye became president and Burundi’s first Hutu head of state. He honoured a campaign promise by appointing Mrs Sylvie Kinigi, a Tutsi and a senior figure in the previous administration, as prime minister. She thus became Africa’s first female prime minister. There were seven other Tutsis in the new government.¹⁷

On 21 October 1993, Ndadaye was assassinated during an attempted military coup, along with six other FRODEBU leaders. Initially, it appeared as if the attempted putsch was the work of junior officers, but an international enquiry in July 1994 indicated that there had been involvement throughout the military hierarchy as far as the high command.

Ndadaye’s murder sparked massacres that claimed 50 000 to 100 000 lives. The Hutu took revenge for the death of their leader, but the army gradually regained control of the countryside, clearing roadblocks, and embarking upon a ‘pacification campaign’ that forced more than 600 000 Hutu to flee the country.

Continued Tutsi domination of the army lay at the centre of Burundi’s fragile security situation, and it was the army that now imposed conditions for a return to normality. Three months of talks were required before a new president was chosen, elections being out of the question. During these negotiations, UPRONA and other opposition parties were able to negotiate a deal that gave them forty per cent of executive posts. FRODEBU accepted this arrangement in order to reassure the Tutsi minority. Cyprian Ntaryamira, the rather colourless agricultural minister, was eventually chosen as president.

On 6 April 1994, Ntaryamira died with Rwanda’s President Habyarimana when their aircraft was shot down over Kigali. The problem of the presidential succession now resurfaced. FRODEBU wanted the popular Sylvestre Ntibantunganya as president, but the opposition, led by UPRONA, set conditions that were accepted on 10 September. These gave UPRONA an even greater say in power. This alienated the radical wing of FRODEBU, which distanced itself from the interim president in protest and in August created the National Council for the Defence of Democracy (CNDD) and its armed wing led from exile by Leonard Nyangoma.

FRODEBU retained the presidency, but felt constrained by fears of another coup or genocidal civil war to concede an ever-growing share in government and administration to UPRONA and other opposition parties. The successful assumption of power by the Tutsi-dominated Rwandese Patriotic Front (RPF) in neighbouring Rwanda in 1994, merely emboldened UPRONA and the Burundian army. A political agreement, brokered by the UN and concluded on 11 September 1994, stipulated that the position of prime minister and ten other cabinet posts (of a total 23) would go to the opposition parties. The defence and justice portfolios were to be held by political ‘neutrals’, meaning a soldier and a judge (effectively Tutsi). Within the local administration and civil service, 45 per cent of posts were also reserved for opposition nominees. The agreement deprived the National Assembly of the power to dismiss the government. It introduced a National Security Council to which FRODEBU and the opposition each nominated five members, and which has an effective veto over the executive. In short, the electoral victory of 1993 was virtually nullified and the president prevented from reforming the army or administration or otherwise threatening what the Tutsi minority saw as its vital interests. Even this was insufficient to deter UPRONA’s leader, Charles Mukasi, who remained outside government, from making additional demands aimed at emasculating FRODEBU. In effect, UPRONA seemed determined to exploit the government’s very reasonable fear of a complete breakdown in order, to recoup the loss of power suffered in the elections of 1993. This involved some neatly judged brinkmanship on the part of UPRONA and the army, and predictably led to catastrophe.

Many Hutu and erstwhile supporters of FRODEBU had become disillusioned with the president’s policy of appeasement and agreed with Nyangoma’s assessment of the situation that UPRONA, the army and Tutsi militias would ultimately have to be defeated militarily if the Hutu majority were ever to enjoy the fruits of their electoral victory. The ranks of Hutu militants were augmented by fugitives from the old Rwandese army and by the thousands of Hutu refugees encamped in Zaïre and Tanzania. Alarmed by the proliferation of weaponry, and the provocative activities of the Hutu militias, the President asked the army to restore order. This gave licence to Tutsi soldiers to prosecute a civil war in miniature, and added to the alienation of the Hutu population from its elected political leaders, who were perceived as selling out.

By mid-1996, it was estimated that some 150 000 had lost their lives during the previous three years of violence. Regional governments and the Organisation of African Unity (OAU) began to discuss the formation of an intervention force, and to forestall this eventuality, former president Buyoya ousted civilian Hutu President Sylvestre Ntibantunganya in a coup on 25 July.¹⁸

Buyoya attempted to soften the blow by appointing a Hutu member of UPRONA, Pascal-Firmin Ndimara, as his prime minister. The cabinet, though Tutsi-dominated, also included a number of Hutus drawn from UPRONA and FRODEBU. The international community condemned the coup, and most of Burundi’s neighbours imposed sanctions, leading to the restoration of the National Assembly in October 1996. FRODEBU’s majority was not restored, however, as twenty of its deputies had been killed and another 34 had fled the country.¹⁹

Factionalism was rife in both parties, with disagreements about who would deal with whom and on what basis. Months of negotiations between the Buyoya government and FRODEBU ensued and a powersharing agreement was reached in June 1998 whereby opposition members would fill eleven of the 22 ministerial posts and the National Assembly would be enlarged from 81 to 121 members.²⁰ A new Constitution was agreed upon which replaced the post of prime minister with two vice-presidents. Frederic Bamvuginyumvira, a Hutu and the president of the FRODEBU party, was appointed as vice-president responsible for political and administrative affairs, while Mathias Sinamenye, a Tutsi and Governor of the Central Boule BNB was appointed vice-president for economic and social affairs.²¹ As a result of the agreement between Buyoya and FRODEBU, the former was sworn in as president of a transitional government and the transitional Constitution was adopted in June 1998. However, the rebel Hutu group, the CNDD-FDD, as well as the pro-Tutsi UPRONA and PARENA parties opposed the reforms (see Table on p 92).²²

Burundi’s neighbours set three conditions for lifting sanctions. While Buyoya was able to respond by allowing political parties to function and restoring the National Assembly, he refused to begin negotiations with the Hutu militias until sanctions had been lifted.²³ Buyoya stuck to this position, which was somewhat alleviated by the resumption of trade through the Democratic Republic of Congo following the fall of Mobutu and support by Rwanda. Other East African countries also began to relax their hold, especially once it became clear what damage they were doing to their own economies, and in January 1999 sanctions were lifted.²⁴

In June 1998, peace talks mediated by Tanzania’s former president Julius Nyerere, started and were attended by representatives of the Burundian government, the National Assembly, twelve political parties and three Hutu rebel groups: the CNDD, FROLINA and the PALIPEHUTU, in Arusha, Tanzania.²⁵ The CNDD-FDD rebel group, which had split off from the CNDD, was not invited to the talks. The representatives agreed that the following issues would be discussed:

the nature of the Burundi crisis and the problems of genocide and exclusion in all their forms;



democracy and good governance, institutional and constitutional systems, issues of justice and the fight against impunity, the judicial and administrative systems, transitional institutions, peace and security for all, and the issue of security and the defence forces;



the cessation of hostilities and the provision for a permanent cease-fire;



rehabilitation and resettlement of refugees and displaced persons, reconstruction and socio-economic development; and



guarantees to govern the implementation of the agreement resulting from the Burundian peace negotiations.²⁶

A number of commissions were established to attend to specific issues:

the nature of the conflict, the problems of genocide, exclusion and relevant solutions;

democracy and good governance;

peace and security;

reconstruction and economic development; and

guarantees to govern the implementation of the agreement resulting from the peace negotiations.²⁷

An important development was that Buyoya and the leader of the CNDD, Leonard Nyangoma, met for the first time in a public forum since the latter left Burundi in 1994 to fInd the CNDD.²⁸

By June 1999, the seventeen negotiating parties had merged into three groups, according to partisan and ethnic considerations. A pro-government group consisted of President Buyoya’s government, the National Assembly and UPRONA. FRODEBU, RPB, PL, CNDD, FROLINA and the PALIPEHUTU represent the Hutu interests. The Tutsi political grouping consists of PARENA, PRP-ABASA, AV-INTWARI, PSD, ANNADE, PIT and INKINZO.²⁹ In October 1999, however, several parties (ANADDE, FRODEBU, INKINZO, PSD, PRP, PL, PIT, RADDES and UPRONA) created the National Convergence for Peace and Reconciliation (CNPR) which brought together elements from both sides.³⁰

More than a year has passed since the talks have started and concrete solutions are still sought for the principal problems. The most important issue for the Hutu grouping remains the transformation of the Tutsi-dominated army. For the Tutsi grouping, a cease-fire is the most pressing requirement. Factors complicating the negotiation process are the participation of the CNDD-FDD and the search for an acceptable mediator to succeed Julius Nyerere.

President Pierre Buyoya is in a very difficult situation as his ethnic and political support base is very small and he depends heavily on the Tutsi-lead army. There are again indications that radical Tutsi elements are dissatisfied with Buyoya’s moderate stance towards negotiations with the rebels, as was the case in May 1997.³¹ The Tutsi hardliners of the RADDES party feel that Buyoya and his government cannot protect the population.³² On the other hand, the CNDD-FDD is pushing to become part of the peace negotiations and threatening to make the country ungovernable should the government not agree to major political reforms.³³

Another problem Buyoya has to face, is the increasing discontent of the population with the government and the army. The government decided on controvertial measures to combat increasing rebel activities in the country. According to Western security officials in Bujumbura, the army has begun rearming and reorganising Tutsi militias in and around the capital.³⁴ The government has also resettled thousands Hutu civilians in makeshift camps around the capital. To add to these unpopular actions, a UN human rights report accused the Burundian army of human rights violations.³⁵

Burundi’s relations with its neighbours are also complicated by rebel activities. Burundi’s relationship with Tanzania is strained because Burundi believes that Tanzania supports Burundian rebels despite the country’s denials. The presence of approximately 300 000 Burundi refugees in camps in western Tanzania close to the Burundi border, fuels Burundi’s feelings of insecurity. The DRC’s lack of border control and allegations that Zimbabwe, Kabila’s ally, has trained and armed the CNDD-FDD and Interahamwe rebels who are now infiltrating Burundi because of the peace process in the DRC, has led to Burundi deploying troops in the DRC to secure its border.³⁶

Burundi’s bilateral relations with Rwanda are at least strong and improving. Except for various similarities between the two governments, one of the main reasons is probably the increased common threat from Hutu rebels in the region. There are indications that the FDD, PALIPEHUTU, FROLINA, ex-FAR (a grouping of former Rwandese soldiers) and Interahamwe rebels from Rwanda combine their operations in some instances.³⁷ The PALIPEHUTU, however, denies having any links with the FDD.³⁸ Burundi and Rwanda are determined to preserve security on their common border and to promote free trade, and the free movement of goods and people between the two countries. There have even been allegations that Rwanda will deploy troops to support President Buyoya’s security forces in the fight against the Hutu rebels, though this has been denied.

The most positive scenario is the unlikely one that the various parties discover a lasting political solution to Burundi’s problems through negotiations. Bilateral negotiations between the government and the rebels or between the major parties could be used to create trust and to form a platform for all-inclusive negotiations. The Burundian Hutus and Tutsis would then be able to live together in relative peace and develop the country to its full potential. This accomplishment would help to stabilise the region.

The worst-case scenario would be a complete breakdown in the negotiations and civil war between the government, supported by states in the region, and the CNDD-FDD, PALIPEHUTU-FNL and FROLINA-FAP rebels, supported by the different rebel groups operating in the region. This situation would have a spillover effect into Burundi’s neighbouring states in terms of refugees and military operations, resulting in a regional conflict.

The most likely scenario is a slow deterioration of the security situation, while the negotiations drag on without any concrete success on the main issues. The danger of this scenario is that the slide into anarchy could happen virtually unnoticed as international attention focuses on the unsuccessful, but continuing, negotiations or more prominent conflicts.

If the peace negotiations are not continued with the necessary changes and progress in the short term, Burundi’s future looks bleak. The negotiations are crucial for success as their collapse could result in the parties turning to military means to resolve the problems in the country, leading to instability, chaos and even massacres. Another regional conflict would probably then develop. The government seems to lack the ability to stabilise the situation or even to retain the population’s support. President Buyoya’s position is very precarious and he could easily become the victim of the situation, leaving a void which the radical groups will exploit. In the end, the population will be the group who will bear the brunt of the crisis in the country.