The Precarious Position of Politics in Popular Imagination: The Burundian Case

Abstract

Based on ethnographic fieldwork among Burundians in exile (Tanzania, Kenya, Belgium and Denmark) and at home, this article explores the perception and position of politics in popular imagination. It argues that politics is perceived ambiguously. On the one hand, politics is seen to corrupt those involved – economically and not least morally. On the other hand, pure politics is perceived as untainted by moral corruption. The popular critique of politics and politicians is thus that they are not political enough – they have lost sight of political ideology and only see power and money. This unresolved and irresolvable paradox is the subject of much debate – especially among the Burundian diaspora – and is what compels most Burundians to continue to discuss politics in spite of their declared dislike of the issue. It is argued that such paradoxes and ambiguities in perceptions of politics may fruitfully be analysed through rumours and conspiracy theories. Through rumours and conspiracy theories about political adversaries and other powerful public figures, ordinary Burundians are able to express their fears, hopes and anxieties. Attitudes and opinions that would not emerge in interviews or other discourse are set free in rumours. By comparing these various levels and kinds of discourse, we get a picture of public imagination on politics – revealing the ambiguities and paradoxes that drive the process.

Introduction

After a decade of civil war and ethnic strife, costing an estimated 300,000 lives, Burundi is now experiencing a thorough political transition. Ethnicity which used to be a taboo in the public sphere is now openly debated and disputed, while Hutu and Tutsi negotiate power sharing deals, reconciliation mechanisms and means to reassure both sides that ethnic violence and exclusion will not occur again in the future.1 After lengthy negotiations in Tanzania, mediated by Julius Nyerere, Nelson Mandela and Jacob Zuma, the Tutsi dominated government and a number of Hutu opposition groups agreed on a transition process. However, some rebel groups did not trust the agreement and continued to fight the Tutsi dominated army. One by one, these groups have put down their arms and decided to join the peace process. After lengthy negotiations in Tanzania and South Africa, their leaders have been offered seats in government just as their combatants are being demobilised and integrated into the national defence force and gendarmerie. In 2005 elections were held, giving a former hard-liner rebel movement, CNDD-FDD (Conseil National pour la Défence de la Démocratie – Forces pour la Défence de la Démocratie) led by Pierre Nkurunnziza, an overwhelming victory.2 Only one small rebel group, FNL (Forces National de la Libération) led by Agathon Rwasa, has not yet been fully enrolled in the peace process and continues to fight around the capital, Bujumbura. It signed a peace agreement with the government on 7 September 2006, but the terms of the agreement remain vague.3

While Hutu politicians have returned from exile in large numbers to take up posts in the administration, others have remained sceptical. They have maintained that the whole process was a scam to trick the innocent Hutu once again, and that behind the surface, the Tutsi remain bent on dominating and even exterminating the Hutu. Likewise, a number of Tutsi are afraid that the democratic reforms are a surface phenomenon, put in place to please the international community and hiding the true genocidal intentions of the Hutu politicians.

The political field is experiencing massive transformation in Burundi. The old opposition between Tutsi in power and Hutu fighting for power no longer makes sense. The rules of the game have changed, and a number of factions appear on both sides competing for political power and influence. In this transitional period where old oppositions are dissolved and new ones have yet to crystallise,4 ordinary Burundians in Burundi and in its influential diaspora attempt to interpret what is actually going on. The changes give reason for optimism and hope but they also create anxiety and fears. In this paper I show how such anxieties are expressed in rumours and conspiracy theories about politics and politicians. The first objective of this paper is therefore methodological, as I set out to explore the role that rumour mongering and conspiracy theories may play in creating (alternative) political opinion and to explore how the proliferation of rumours relates to radical political change and to a shift from autocratic to democratic governance. When people are in a situation where taken-for-granted knowledge and the known symbolic order have broken down, they look for answers and explanations, not in everyday practices but in big conspiracies among powerful others.5 And while these conspiracy theories may not alleviate their suffering, they at least give people some certainty in their misery by pinpointing a cause and an authorial position. Research on rumours suggests they play a central role in the social imagination in times of war and violence.6 But what happens in post-conflict times? Conspiracy theories are about shedding light on the occult connections that are assumed to exist beneath the surface. But as much as conspiracy theories try to unearth and shed light, they also are content with letting things remain obscure and opaque. As West and Sanders argue, conspiracy theories and occult cosmologies do not reduce the world's complexities, on the contrary, ‘they do the opposite, rendering the world more complex by calling attention to its hidden and contradictory logics’.7 What I am concerned with here is the way in which power in Burundi is assumed to conspire. These ideas about secret power come forth in rumours and conspiracy theories. Through such rumours mongering ordinary people are trying to understand the underlying logics of politics that are assumed to lie under the surface.8 However, when societies become more democratic and transparent, conspiracy theories do not necessarily disappear. In democratic, transparent regimes ‘people’ simply assume that decisions are made elsewhere – hidden from the public eye – in secrecy. And this is where ‘real power’ is expected to rest.9

The second, related, objective of the paper concerns perceptions of politics in a situation of political transformation from a closed, secretive wielding of power to more inclusive and democratic forms of governance. I will argue that in spite of the democratic reforms, rumours and conspiracies about secret power still exist and express people's uncertainty about the process and their fears that ‘real power’ is hidden behind the surface. Finally, I will argue that Burundians have an ambiguous relation towards power and politics. On the one hand they find that the quest for power is morally corrupting, the politicians are believed to have lost their ideals and ideologies in their fight for power and privilege. The rumours and conspiracy theories claim that the politicians no longer think of the wider population or the larger ideals and only think of filling their own bellies and covering their own backs. On the other hand, there is a certain fascination, awe, even respect for those individual politicians who are believed to hold secret power. As much as these leaders – whether dictators from the ancien regime or tyrants from the rebel movements – are feared and detested, they are also respected for their access to almost magic power.

Of Conspiracies and Dirty Deals

Jean-Pierre (fictive name) is an elegantly dressed man in his late thirties. He has a PhD in mathematics and teaches Information Technology at a university in Belgium. We meet at a respectable bar in Brussels (May 2005). He is explaining to me about his activities in one of the several associations that have emerged in recent years to protect the interests of the Tutsi.10 I ask him why there should be this need right now when there has been a peace agreement with all the rebel groups, when the Tutsi have been guaranteed 40 per cent of the positions in the army (in spite of making up only around 15 per cent of the population) and the election process for the coming elections through various complicated means ensures the Tutsi minority representation at all levels.

He explains in great detail the weaknesses of the electoral system and proposes a system of representation that would ensure the Hutu and the Tutsi to be represented as communities rather simply as individuals in mixed parties. The intricate details of his argument are not central to the point I want to make here. What is interesting is his analysis of real politics in Burundi. He clearly believes that politics is decided by a handful of powerful men behind closed doors and that the present situation is the result of obscure dirty deals made by such powerful men.

He is worried about the security of the Tutsi community, he repeats again and again. ‘Set aside the unfairness of the system’, he says grimly. ‘We can live with that. What worries me is the physical security of the Tutsi people.’ He sees no guarantee that what happened in 1993 will not happen again as long as justice is not done. Like many Tutsi, he is convinced that the ethnic killings in 1993 after the abduction and assassination of the democratically elected Hutu president by Tutsi officers, was planned by the top ranks in the Hutu political leadership and therefore qualifies as genocide.11 Some go so far as to insinuate that the president himself staged the coup attempt against himself as a pretext to start the genocide of the Tutsi. Unfortunately for him, he miscalculated and was killed in the process, according to this rumour. It is often held by these Tutsi that there was a master plan and a list of names of high ranking Tutsi to be killed first. According to other rumours, these plans had actually been hatched several months earlier when the country's first multiparty elections were to be held in June 1993. Allegedly, the leadership of Frodebu (Front des Démocrates du Burundi), a moderate ‘Hutu’ party, had drawn up the plans to exterminate the Tutsi in case Frodebu should lose the elections. Since Frodebu won a landslide victory, there was no pretext to implement the plan. However, the assassination of the president (Frodebu) created a pretext for the Hutu leaders to unleash their plans, according to Jean- Pierre and his companions.

According to many scholars, the mass killing of Tutsi (c.30,000 killed in late October 1993) was a spontaneous reaction by the Hutu population to the news about the abduction and assassination of ‘their’ president.12 However, this kind of uncoordinated violence is hard to cope with, and both sides to the conflict have created narratives that make sense of the meaningless violence.13 These narratives become ‘over structured’ like rumours, locating a centre of power, a master plan, and ulterior motives. They also emphasise human agency, locating power in the hands of a few individuals. In the conspiracy theories, the killing of Tutsi by Hutu in 1993 was part of a larger well-organised plan to exterminate all Tutsi.

What is interesting in this context is how Jean-Pierre explains the present state of affairs. His anger is surprisingly not directed towards the Hutu. The Hutu – it seems – are beyond reach. They are either the innocent peasants who are being manipulated by their leaders,14 or they are so much ‘radical other’ that they are beyond reasoning. What really annoys Jean-Pierre is the former president and officer, Pierre Buyoya. One might expect that many Tutsi were disappointed with Buyoya because he was a primus motor in the Arusha negotiations and ceded power to a Hutu president as part of the transition agreement. They would obviously be accusing him of ‘selling out’ and giving in to pressure from the Hutu opposition and the international negotiators.15 However, the story given by Jean-Pierre and his adherents has a slight twist.

Jean-Pierre accuses Buyoya of being a war criminal himself. Having close relations to the army, he most probably was behind the killing of the president in 1993. Also in other cases he has blood on his hands. When he realised that he could not stick to power through force, because the rebels were becoming too strong, and because the international community was putting a lot of pressure on him, he decided instead to cut a deal with the Hutu leaders who had orchestrated the genocide in 1993. By letting them have access to power in Burundi, he has cut a deal with them not to punish war criminals and génocidaires. They are bound together like accomplices in a crime. In this unholy alliance nobody can accuse the others of past misdeeds as they all have skeletons in the closet that they wish to keep closed by all means. And this is what worries Jean-Paul.

For Jean-Paul, the Hutu politicians might be génocidaires but Buyoya is the key to power. It is due to his power game that these Hutu enjoy impunity. He does not care about the population. All he cares about is his own power, and he will use any means to get there. Also Hutu believe Buyoya to be incredibly influential, even after he has officially stepped down. His power relies in part on his connections in the army and his alleged business empire. But most significant perhaps, in these rumours, is the Bururi connection. Bururi is a small province in the south of the country from where a disproportional part of the country's leaders originate. Thus the three presidents from 1966 to 1993 and again from 1996 to 2003 were from the same area in Bururi. Similarly, the top officers used to be from that province.16 Even some of the most significant Hutu rebel leaders are from Bururi, causing both Hutu and Tutsi to talk about regional rather than ethnic domination and exclusion. Buyoya, a Tutsi-Hima officer and strongman epitomises the Bururi clique.

What can we learn from Jean-Pauls narrative? First, it shows how incomprehensible events, such as the massive killings in 1993, are interpreted into standard narratives. These narratives take on the shape of conspiracy theories where a small number of individuals are presumed to think up complex plans. Especially some individuals – in this case Pierre Buyoya – are accorded with almost supernatural powers. Second, it shows how ordinary Burundians, like Jean-Pierre who might be well educated but is no more adept at political analysis than his peasant compatriots, attempt to understand and explain the process of transformation that is taking place. Jean-Pierre is quite explicit about his worries. Others, however share his anxiety about the whole process but only let this anxiety out in rumours. With the civil war coming to an end and the transition process on track, old lines of antagonism – ordering the world into categories of ‘us’ and ‘them’ – no longer make much sense. Jean-Pierre is trying to create new lines of opposition in order to make sense and re-establish some kind of sicherheit (meaning surety, safety, security).

Rebels cum Ministers

The negotiations have radically changed the political field in the sense that politicians who once could not put foot in Burundi – not openly at least – have now returned and have positions of power inside the system.17 This is the result of the Arusha process and ensures power sharing between the various signatories to the agreement. There are, however, a number of rumours about these returned Hutu politicians as well. And I argue that we should not just dismiss these rumours as mere evil slander and gossip. There is a certain amount of political slander to them, but that does not make them any less interesting, as much of the political field is structured around slander and defamation of character of one's political opponents.

These rumours try to answer basic questions like; why did these politicians really return? Why did some do so, while others remained outside the process – either in exile or in the rebel movements? And from these questions arise questions such as; what does so- and-so stand to gain from returning?

When asking ordinary poor people in and around the capital Bujumbura in June–July 2003 what their opinions of the returning politicians was, the answer was rather laconic. Yes they are in it for the money, they would say. But so are all politicians in Burundi, they would add. But staying in the town for a while, I would often hear jokes18 about the returnees. Mutanga Nord, the part of town where many of them have built massive villas (not in the exclusive area of the old elite but adjacent to it), is commonly called the quartier d'Arusha, referring to the handsome per diems that the politicians received during the lengthy negotiations in Arusha, Tanzania. ‘Why do you think, they delayed the negotiations for so long?’ they add, laughing.

Also in Nairobi, Burundians would joke about the returning politicians, implicitly questioning their ulterior motives for returning. Nairobi used to be the hub of Hutu political coordination in the region, connecting Burundi and the refugee camps in Tanzania with the educated and wealthy diaspora in Europe. However, with the reforms, Hutu politicians in Nairobi were among the first to return. Life in Nairobi is hard on refugees, so the prospects of returning to an income outweighed the fears of insecurity – more than they did for the relatively comfortable diaspora in Europe that to a large degree has decided to bide its time and see how things develop, before taking the big decision to return. In any case, when I did fieldwork in Nairobi in May 2004, many of the influential opposition politicians had returned to Burundi. The refugees, who had remained in Nairobi, would joke about the politicians who had returned, questioning the idealism behind their motives. On one particular occasion, this young man explained to me after a few beers how some Burundians in Nairobi all of a sudden had claimed to be majors and generals in the rebel army, now demanding to be integrated in the new national army at this level. With the Burundian diaspora in Nairobi being rather small, the audience knew the men he was joking about, and found the whole idea of them being officers hilarious. Gesticulating wildly, he went on entertaining about one particular man who did not even know which way round to hold a gun.

Finally, at a cultural event for Burundians in Denmark, Louis, a Hutu who used to have a very high position in the government, tells me about his doubts about the whole transition process. In principle everything is fine, he says. But he simply does not trust the Tutsi in the government. The transitional president might be a Hutu, he says, but the newly appointed Tutsi vice president, Alphonse Kadege, is cunning. ‘Il est malign!’ According to the Arusha accords, the president for the first 18 months of the transition period is to be appointed from the Tutsi-dominated Uprona (Union pour le Progres National) party, while the vice president should be from the Hutu dominated Frodebu party. The incumbent president, Pierre Buyoya (Tutsi, Uprona), was president for the first 18 months, whereupon he ceded the position to Domitien Ndayizeye (Hutu, Frodebu) on 1 May 2003, and Kadege, a Buyoya loyalist, was appointed vice president. Each transition has been shrouded in fear and rumours that the Tutsi would not cede power. When doing fieldwork in Belgium in April 2003, the majority of Hutu living there believed that Buyoya would not respect the transition process and find some last minute pretext – such as the ongoing insurgency – to remain in office. As it was, he handed over power in good order and according to plans. The same anxieties surfaced, however, some 18 months later, when I am talking to Louis at the cultural event in Denmark. The transition period was scheduled to expire by October 2004. However, given the continued fighting in the country, it had not been possible to arrange elections in time. Several parties were pushing to extend the transition period. This gave cause to numerous rumours among some Hutu – like Louis – that the Tutsi wanted an excuse to seize power by yet another coup d’état because the president would formally be unconstitutional once the deadline had expired. With President Ndayizeye being unconstitutional, Tutsi officers would have no problems legitimising a coup, according to Louis. If the Tutsi really are so keen on power, why not just take it, one might ask. Here, we have to remember the important role of the international community. The idea of the ‘gaze of the big nations’19 has always been strong in Burundian political imagination. And the fact that the AU had deployed several thousand peacekeepers in Burundi by late 2004 did not make the international community less relevant.

Louis’ stories about great Tutsi conspiracies, hatching political plots behind the scenes, are not surprising in itself. It is one in a long tradition of such conspiracy theories.20 It also draws on a long history of ethnic stereotypes in the Great Lakes region, where Tutsi are known to be cunning, lazy, arrogant, intelligent and secretive. Hutu on the other hand are supposed to be the ‘happy go lucky’ native, who is not very intellectually minded but who is honest and hard working. As opposed to the Tutsi, he does not hide his emotions. He might get angry but then he forgets and forgives.21 These stereotypes can be traced back to the early colonialists and missionaries who classified the population into races, and created the ‘Hamitic thesis’.22 The stereotypes also pervade Louis’ further analysis of the Hutu politicians who returned.

The problem, he says, is these ‘new politicians’, referring to the Hutu in the government. They do not have enough experience to know the tricks of the Tutsi. ‘I know these people [the Tutsi in government]. I know what kind of game they are playing’, he repeats, referring to the fact that he used to be a high-ranking member of Uprona during the one party system. He boasts that he knew Kadege personally from those days. As the evening progresses, he portrays a picture of Kadege and his ally, ex-President Buyoya, pulling the strings in a number of conspiracies while the new Hutu politicians gladly believe that they have power. He is convinced that the Tutsi in the government – like Kadege – have been convincing these ‘new Hutu politicians’ like Ndayizeye that they have to postpone the elections because nothing is yet ready for the elections and because there is war. And these Hutu seem to have been convinced. This will be an opportunity to stage a coup d’état – which is the real, secret intention of the Tutsi.

The ‘new politicians’ let themselves be blinded by the titles (‘minister of good governance or whatever’, he says with contempt) the cars and the houses in Mutanga Nord. ‘They think they have power. But is that power?’ he asks rhetorically. So here we have a perception of the returning politicians not only as greedy and living off politics rather than for politics to use Weber's classic distinction. They are also naïve and easily manipulated, while the experienced politicians manipulate ‘real power’ in secrecy. The transformation of the political field and the opening up from an authoritarian to a more inclusive and democratic mode of governance has transformed these politicians who used to be the avant-garde in opposing the Tutsi regime at home into docile puppets. This is far from Jean-Pierre's interpretation of the returning politicians as war criminals that have made a pact with Buyoya. And it adds a slight twist to the jokes about the ‘argent d'Arusha’. Louis does not blame them for being ventriotes and forgetting the common people out of ill will. Rather, it is the classic narrative of money that corrupts. Money can make even the finest man loose his ideals if he does not have the willpower and the stamina to resist its temptations.

Factionalism and opportunism

Since the assassination of the president in Burundi in 1993 and the following constitutional crisis, the Hutu-dominated political movements have fragmented several times. Space does not allow a detailed breakdown of these very complex developments,23 but it is interesting in our case because each leadership crisis and each creation of new factions has produced heated debates about the vices and virtues of the political leaders. Debates on whether this or that individual is serving ‘the people’ or his own interests reflect the fundamental Weberian dilemma between living for and living off politics. This again reveals how ordinary people view and judge politics. Some politicians are seen as weak opportunists while others are perceived to be uncompromising and strong – at once repelling and fascinating.

After the assassination of Ndadaye in 1993 and the following constitutional deadlock, one faction of Frodebu decided to remain formally in government. Another realised that the Frodebu leadership inside Burundi had no de facto power and decided instead to create a broad coalition movement CNDD (Conseil National pour la Défence de la Démocratie) in exile that would use armed insurgency to achieve its goals of re-installing the democratic government of 1993. However, CNDD never became a coalition movement, and other opposition groups took up arms again and fought their own battle against the government army.24

Later, these movements fragmented due to conflicts in the leadership. Leaders would be accused of corruption, of regionalism or of being out of touch with reality (like when the leader is based in Europe and not struggling in the camps in Tanzania or in the bush in Burundi). Being clandestine and being spread over several continents makes it difficult at times to asses the legitimacy and strength of a certain faction. Is it simply a question of a single man (women are virtually absent from the leadership of these movements) and his brother-in-law who is claiming to represent a whole party? Does he actually have command over combatants? And does he enjoy support from substantial parts of the diaspora? A striking example of this dilemma came out in a debate on a chat forum on one of the Burundian websites. At this point in time, Alain Mugabarabona had declared that he was the new leader of Palipehutu-FNL (Partie pour la Libération du Peuple Hutu – Forces National de la Libération, itself a result from an earlier fragmentation from the original Palipehutu). On the website ‘the Representatives of Palipehutu-FNL in the Benelux’ had written a letter of support for the new leader. A day later a new letter appeared on the same site, denouncing the first letter, claiming that the original signatories did by no means represent the party in Benelux, and that they, the true representatives, supported the old leader. This is not to imply that all political decision making is taken in such an ad hoc manner. Most of the rebel movements have quite well-organised mechanisms of coordinating activities and making decisions. This extreme case does, however, illustrate the tensions and dilemmas that the transnational political movements face. What is interesting for our argument here is the ways in which people talk about the leaders when a new splinter organisation is created. This took on a specific pattern in relation to the peace negotiations and the following transition.

It was widely held by Burundians whom I have interviewed in Burundi and the diaspora, that new leaders emerged and new factions of parties were created when individuals wanted a piece of the peace pie. So while the main faction of a rebel group rejected the Arusha accords, another faction would agree on them. In this way, Alain Mugabarabona was offered a seat in the transition government and his soldiers were offered demobilisation programmes. Burundians of most political persuations saw his attempt to take over the movement and later his decision to create his own faction as purely instrumental and opportunistic. It was believed that he had no ‘real’ power in terms of party supporters and more importantly in terms of firepower and size of armed forces under his command.25 It was, after all, the threat of force – in the shape of the armed insurgency – that had forced Buyoya to the negotiating table in the first place. So to have such a force behind one's words, obviously created a privileged negotiating position.

When I was in Burundi in June–July 2003, the very first groups of combatants under Mugabarabona's command were to be cantoned. Everyone in town was rather excited, both because this was the first cantonment exercise and because they were curious to see whether Mugabarabona could actually muster any soldiers. The first group was indeed rather pathetic; some thirty odd youngsters with hardly any firearms. Rumour had it that they were landless peasants and orphans who had joined the ‘rebellion’ three weeks previously in order to benefit from the demobilisation package. This strengthened the suspicion that Mugabarabona was an opportunist and as such rather harmless, politically.26 This cannot be said of the leader of the remaining faction of Palipehutu-FNL, Agathon Rwasa.27

The Magic Powers of the Last Fighters

Most people in Bujumbura and Nairobi believed that Rwasa had gone too far. While every other party and faction had finally negotiated with the transitional government and all sorts of compromises had been reached, he continued his ambushes in the hills, surrounding the capital, Bujumbura. His rebels would attack the armed forces but also levy taxes from civilians, forcefully recruit young men, and punish those civilians, he assumed to support the government army. It became increasingly unclear what his political objectives were, now that the president was Hutu, democratic elections were planned, the judiciary was being reformed and ex-rebel officers were being integrated in the national defence force. Many international observers believed that the so-called rebels were more bandits than guerrillas with an ideological motive.28 They believed that it was a question of a group of young men, who had never experienced anything but war and therefore had a culture of violence. For them robbing and raping had become a lifestyle that was difficult to give up. And given the extreme poverty in the country, it was probably also their best option for making a living.

Burundians were less prone to this interpretation. They interpreted Rwasa's strategy more ideologically, although as mentioned, it had become difficult to see what this ideology consisted of. Rwasa insisted that he could not negotiate with the government members in place, as he believed that they were not the real power holders in the country. The Hutu president and his men were mere puppets in Rwasa's opinion. He insisted on negotiating directly with ‘the Tutsi’ whomever that might be, as he believed that they were the real power holders in the country. Although people find him too radical and uncompromising, there is also a lot of mystique surrounding him which in turn gives him a certain aura of power. One aspect that gives him this mythical character is his elusiveness. Very few people got to see him. According to The Star (South Africa, 23 May 2005), one of the only known pictures of him dates from a meeting he had with President Ndayizeye in Dar es Salaam in May 2005. According to a Burundian journalist, when Rwasa occasionally addressed his combatants, he forced them all to stand with their backs to him.29 If anyone turned round and saw him, they would be executed. He was known for an increasing brutality against suspected traitors in his own ranks, and many stories exist about him personally executing officers whom he did not trust.

Similar stories circulated about Pierre Nkurunziza, leader of the largest rebel army in Burundi at the time. Until he entered a peace agreement with the transitional government in late 2003, he had been uncompromising. He enjoyed great support and respect from the population because he allegedly was not corrupt as his two predecessors, and now leaders of two smaller factions, were alleged to be. Jean-Bosco Ndayekengurukiye, leader of another faction of CNDD-FDD was accused of being regionalist, privileging only combatants from his home region. He happens to be from Bururi where the majority of Tutsi leaders also come from – a fact that caused rumours that he was about to strike a deal with Buyoya, secretly, behind the backs of the rank and file members of his movement. Nkurunziza, coming from the north, could not be accused of regionalism to the same degree. ‘The north’ covers the whole country except Bururi and is for historical reasons much less contentious. After he took power over the lion's share of the rebellion, he dealt harshly with any kind of opposition inside the movement, executing soldiers of all ranks if there was the slightest doubt about their loyalty. According to an International Crisis Group report, he virtually installed a reign of terror in the movement.30 But whereas the report assumed in 2002 that this might weaken the movement's popular support, it turns out that Nkurunziza is extremely popular. This popularity rests on his image as a strongman, able to combat the cunning Tutsi. His reputation as powerful is also buttressed by the fact that his rebellion was based inside Burundi, while his rivals were dependent on external help – most notably from Kabila in Congo. Observers suggest that his success in the 2005 elections was due to some of these factors as well: he was ‘clean’ in the sense that he was uncorrupted by the dirty politics of the political class – both Hutu and Tutsi – who had been involved in politics since the early 1990s. He had made no partnership, as Uprona and Frodebu, had but remained pure, fighting in the forests.31 He brought with him a strong sense of renewal, cutting out dead wood, and of sticking to ideals rather than striking dirty deals.

Although most of the rumours about Nkurunziza contribute to this image of an uncompromising ‘big man’, his mere success and power have caused some conspiracy theories to emerge in some circles. I have been told by Rwasa supporters that the Tutsi were using Nkurunziza to derail the transition process, encouraging him to stage a coup d’état against the president, and promising him the presidency, as long as ‘they’ could still wield power as they had always done.32 This conspiracy theory reveals how, in the public imagination, even someone as apparently powerful as Nkurunziza is vulnerable to temptation. Even he is a mere mortal, who might forget ‘the cause’ in order to become ‘Mr President’. Rumours and conspiracy theories might build an image of omnipotence, but they also probe and test the integrity of political leadership, sparing nobody on their way.

We may conclude from the opinions above that while some politicians are perceived to be living off politics, others are not. And although many people detest the latter for their brutal behaviour and disagree with their political objectives, they respect them for sticking to their ideals. Furthermore, rumours and conspiracy theories try to make sense of these leaders but rather than subverting their power base by revealing their ulterior motives (as with the rumours about Mugabarabona) they actually contribute to creating fear and fascination, thereby strengthening their power.

By Way of Conclusion

In the case studies above we saw how rumours about politics and politicians can have three functions. Rumours can pull politicians apart and reveal them as impotent opportunists. These are the typical rumours about naïve Hutu politicians who are blinded (aveuglé, as they say) by the apparent power and privilege and not least by the wealth that follows political positions in the system. The rumours attempt to uncover this fact and hence reveal them as basically powerless – and certainly morally corrupted. Apart from being powerless, they have forgotten their ideals and ‘the people’.

However, we also saw how rumours can contribute to building a myth around certain politicians. These are rumours that also build on moral evaluations of political leaders. Due to their uncompromising style, these politicians are respected and feared. They stick to a politics of serving the people rather than going for the easy access to power. When Nkurunziza signed a peace agreement, he made sure to get as much influence in government and as many soldiers of all ranks integrated into the national army as possible. However, in my interviews with his political representatives shortly before the agreement, they all emphasised that he was not interested in political office. He simply wanted peace, justice and democracy. This image of serving the people – however little it may have to do with reality – is coupled with the image of being ruthless, as an uncompromising, idealistic leader cannot accept traitors, collaborators or any kind of disloyal behaviour that might jeopardise the movement. For him the ends justify the means. Finally, political leaders like Rwasa and Nkurunziza play on being elusive. This mixture of being a self-sacrificing man of the people and a strict leader, coupled with a certain elusiveness, is the right seedbed for rumours of unbelievable powers.

Finally, rumours can at once reveal political leaders as friends and reinforce their power, as in the case of the rumours about Buyoya. On the one hand they show his ulterior motives and immoral, unscrupulous greed for power, but they also contribute to the image of him as an omnipotent monster working in the shadows. In fact, most rumours about politicians and other powerful personalities contain this dual nature. On the one hand, they reveal politicians as morally corrupted. On the other hand, this hidden side of power can be more dangerous than the visible side.

According to the literature, rumours and conspiracy theories are about making sense. Through these rumours Burundians can try to make sense of traumatic events. They tend to overemphasise agency, as when they believe that one person can plan the destiny of a country. And they tend to look for secrets and what is believed to be the hidden side of power. In times of war and conflict, rumours abound. But it seems that they also do so in times of democratic transformation. The current period of transition might have brought about formal openness and transparency. But it has also created a sense of confusion of categories; ethnic categories, categories of insiders and outsiders, categories of friend and foe and categories of good and evil. This gives birth to the rumours and conspiracy theories that are busy making sense and creating new categories. As the political field is opened up, rumours and conspiracy theories dig ever deeper, treating democracy and political freedom as yet another trick to hide the real workings of power.

The rumours and conspiracy theories about politics and politicians are moral evaluations. They try to evaluate to what degree a politician is self-sacrificing and idealistic and to what degree he is simply thirsty for power. It is in a manner trying to come to terms with the double nature of politics. For as much as a politician should be idealistic, he should not be afraid to fight for power. Politics is dirty in public imagination, and as much as it might be condemned, ordinary people also appreciate that this is its condition. In Bourdieu's words, you cannot separate living off politics from living for politics.33 The two are always enmeshed. While the rumours about corrupt politicians seem to try to keep the two apart, other rumours seem to accept this fact, when they condone the clever moves of certain politicians.

Notes

1. For a detailed overview of the political transition and in particular the 2005 elections, see Reyntjens, ‘Breaking the Cycle’. See also International Crisis Group's report for an analysis of the first year of the post-transition government, Burundi: Democracy and Peace at Risk.

2. The main contenders in the election were CNDD-FDD and Frodebu (Front pour la Démocratie au Burundi), which had previously been by far the largest ‘Hutu’ party in the country, winning a landslide victory in the 1993 elections. Thus, for the first time, political competition was among Hutu rather than between Hutu and Tutsi. Feeling the pressure, Frodebu launched a smear campaign, accusing CNDD-FDD of collaborating too closely with the Tutsi (Reyntjens, ‘Briefing: Burundi’).

3. International Crisis Group, Burundi Rebellion. Exploring contemporary politics in Burundi is like exploring a moving target. When research was initiated, Burundi was still engulfed in a bloody civil war. When much of the fieldwork for this article was gathered, the country was in the process of implementing a transition process. At the time of writing, the political landscape has transformed dramatically once more, creating new conspiracy theories, new lines of tension and a new public political imagination.

4. For a definition of organic versus cyclic crises, see Laclau and Mouffe, Hegemony & Socialist Strategy, and Salecl, ‘Crisis of Identity’.

5. Fine, ‘Redemption Rumors’, and Turner, I Heard it through the Grapevine, show how rumours and urban legend flourish about big corporations masterminding secret plans against ordinary people.

6. Allport and Postman, The Psychology of Rumor, 47. Rumour is a kind of ‘wide-awake dreaming’ that intermingles fact and fiction and not only tries to make sense of the past but also tries to be prognostic about possible outcomes in the future (Feldman, ‘Ethnographic States of Emergency’; Feldman, ‘Violence and Vision’). Rumours do not necessarily attack what was once taken for granted. Rather, by its nature of ‘wide-awake dreaming’, rumour tries to prop up the social-symbolic order while simultaneously revealing the constructedness of this order. Rumours respond to a sense of disorder and produce on the other hand, an order that is ‘over-structured’, seeking causal links and ulterior motives in every event.

7. West and Sanders, Transparency and Conspiracy, 17.

8. For a more thorough discussion of secrecy and sovereignty see Turner, ‘The Tutsi are Afraid’, 41–61.

9. West and Sanders, Transparency and Conspiracy.

10. For his safety I cannot mention the specific association. There is a range of such associations (Puissance Autodéfense Amasekanya, Action Contre Génocide, www.tutsi.org, RADECO (Rassemblement pour la Défense des Communautés)). As Jean-Pierre explains, they are closely related, with individuals being members of several and all the key players knowing each other personally. I have interviewed key players in Belgium, Denmark and Burundi.

11. It has yet to be seen whether these allegations hold water. The UN sent a mission to explore the killings and it did indeed conclude that it amounted to genocide. However, the mission has been heavily criticised by Burundi experts (Reyntjens and Lemarchand). Unsurprisingly, the abovementioned organisations put a lot of value into the UN document, which is usually referred to on the front page of their websites, where one can download the whole report.

12. Lemarchand, Burundi; Reyntjens, ‘Breaking the Cycle’.

13. For Hutu versions, see Turner, ‘The Barriers of Innocence’.

14. This is also the interpretation of the events of 1972 given in the government's ‘White Paper’. The Hutu peasantry is portrayed as innocent in its ignorance, manipulated by foreigners and a small Hutu elite into killing Tutsi. Republic of Burundi, The White Paper on the Real Causes and the Consequences of the Attempted Genocide against the Tutsi Ethny in Burundi.

15. In July 2003, I met groups of young Tutsi walking/jogging the perimeters of Bujumbura on Sunday mornings, chanting slogans against Buyoya the traitor.

16. Lemarchand, Burundi.

17. However, a precondition for these politicians to return from exile was that they be granted 24 hour protection by the South African defense force. Given the past lessons, they did not trust the Burundian army to protect them.

18. I have not had the opportunity to explore the relevance of this genre, the political joke, although it undoubtedly could be very illuminating.

19. Turner, ‘Under the Gaze’.

20. Turner, ‘Under the Gaze’; Turner, ‘The Tutsi are Afraid’.

21. Malkki, Purity and Exile; Maquet, The Premise of Inequality; Turner, ‘The Barriers of Innocence’.

22. The Hamitic thesis claims that the Tutsi were a superior race that immigrated from the north in the sixteenth century, bringing with them a civilisation superior to that of the indigenous Bantu people. Gahama, Le Burundi; Mamdani, When Victims become Killers; Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis.

23. See, however, International Crisis Group, Burundi Rebellion and Reyntjens, ‘Briefing: Burundi’.

24. Usually these rebel movements held different territories in Burundi, with bases in Tanzania and Congo respectively. They did, however, clash at times, although it is very difficult to obtain exact facts about the movements.

25. Power in Burundi also is related to being able to ‘speak well’, i.e. to convince others of one's point of view. The traditional elders in Burundi are called the Abashingantahe, which literally means those who are given the word. A strong ethnic stereotype about the Tutsi is their ability to articulate themselves. This is very different to the brute power of the army and the rebels. In fact, many Hutu see it as a sign of Tutsi weakness and loss of absolute power when the Tutsi ‘openly’ massacred the Hutu in 1972 and 1993 (Turner, ‘The Barriers of Innocence’).

26. Since fieldwork, in July 2006, Mugabarabona was arrested, along with a number of others, and accused of planning a coup d’état. In this manner, it seems that he continues to occupy the position of the traitor and collaborator in the Burundian political field.

27. Similar struggles have been taking place within the more powerful CNDD, which has split into even more factions. Here, however, it seems to have been the new leaders that have succeeded in maintaining the support of the largest contingents of combatants.

28. This position is quite widespread among scholars on African conflicts. They reduce them to a question of greed or need (Vlassenroot and Raeymaekers, ‘The Politics of Rebellion and Intervention in Ituri’), without leaving room for political ideology (see also Turner, ‘The Barriers of Innocence’).

29. Interview, Bujumbura, June 2003.

30. International Crisis Group, Burundi Rebellion.

31. Reyntjens, ‘Breaking the Cycle’.

32. Interviews, Nairobi, May 2004.

33. Bourdieu and Thompson, Language and Symbolic Power.