"There is a saying in Rwanda that Rwandans must swallow their tears. They do. If they did not, they would surely drown."

(Palmer, 1995, p. 459)

Nearly fifty years after the Holocaust, and one hundred years after the first arrival of Europeans in their land, the people of Rwanda suffered one of the most efficient episodes of mass killing in modern times. Because of its scale and brutality, the outlines of the Rwandan genocide are well known. The facts of the matter are these: from early April to mid-July of 1994, some 800,000 Rwandans were killed, about 10 percent of the pre-genocide population. The victims were predominantly Tutsi; the perpetrators, predominantly Hutu. The slaughter ended when the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) gained control of Kigali, the capital city, and the remnants of the Hutu government fled to neighboring countries. In the end, a plan aimed at solidifying Hutu power and identity ended with thousands of Rwandans displaced from their homes and thousands of corpses piled up on the floors of local churches.

The genocide in Rwanda has deeply entangled roots. In recent years, it has been analyzed from a number of angles, and several rich narratives have emerged (Keane, 1995; Gourevitch, 1998). One of the dimensions of the genocide which has begun to receive more attention is its impact on Rwandan children. It is estimated that some 300,000 young people died during the genocide (Women's Commission, 1997). Those who survived carry both physical wounds and the psychological scars of witnessing the death of family members.

This paper will begin with an analysis of the genocide itself, then proceed to discuss its impact on children and the potential for healing and prevention. As a framework for the discussion, I rely primarily on the theoretical model developed by Staub (1989) in his book, The Roots of Evil. Whereas most scholars of genocide have applied political and sociological lenses to the phenomenon, Staub seeks to understand the psychological underpinnings of genocide and mass killing. His model takes account of the preconditions leading to genocide in terms of social conditions, group identity, and cultural dispositions. It also explores the psychology of perpetrators and the role of bystanders in enabling or discouraging mass killing. Rather than elaborating on these elements here, their meaning will be developed throughout the paper in reference to the Rwandan case.

Difficult Life Conditions

Of the instigators of genocide, the most important overarching factor is what Staub calls "difficult life conditions" (1989, p. 13). During periods of economic depravation and political instability, basic human needs can be frustrated.[1] People do not feel safe, and they may feel anxious about the status and welfare of their group. Feeling threatened, group members look for any means available to understand and improve their situation. Thus, difficult life conditions set the stage for scapegoating and other destructive ideologies.

Difficult life conditions were certainly present in Rwanda before the genocide. Rwanda is one of the smallest and most densely populated states in Africa. There is a great amount of pressure on land since, as is often the case in post-colonial nations, large tracts are owned by relatively few people. In 1991, 16 percent of the people held 43 percent of all cultivated land (Des Forges, 1999). In addition to a chronic shortage of land, Rwanda suffered the crash of the coffee market in 1987 and a famine in 1989 (Smith, 1998). The currency was devalued by 40 percent in 1990 in response to demands for restructuring by the International Monetary Fund. Angry with their government, peasants organized cooperatives and dissident publications sprouted. In 1991, 50,000 people rallied in Kigali to protest (Smith, 1998).

Two other events threatened national stability and the hegemony of Rwanda's Hutu elite. First, in October of 1990, troops of the Tutsi-led RPF invaded from Uganda. Although halted by government forces and French military support, the RPF continued exerting pressure throughout the early 1990s. The other source of political unrest was the introduction of multi-party politics in 1990-91. A concession to international demands to end single-party rule, multi-party politics led to the rapid rise of several opposition parties. Among insiders in the Haberyimana regime, there was a shaken confidence in their ability to maintain control. The state was undergoing a "crisis of legitimacy" (Smith, 1998). The Arusha accords, a compromise power-sharing agreement with the RPF reached in 1993, deeply alienated and angered Hutu extremists. By 1994, these conditions had prepared the foundation upon which group violence might more easily be built.

Identity: Ideology and Devaluation

Plagued by difficult life conditions, groups tend to devalue others and reify their own identity in an effort to satisfy their need for a positive self-concept (Staub, 1989). In Rwanda, efforts to bolster Hutu identity led Hutu extremists to engage in a pervasive campaign of devaluation of the Tutsis. Before discussing this effort, however, it is important to discuss how identity became the fault line which split Rwanda apart.

The dynamics of identity in Rwanda are complex. On the surface, there is little to distinguish Tutsi from Hutu. With some 400 years of co-existence in Rwanda, they share a common language and cultural norms. Intermarriage is not uncommon. In most cases, the only way to identify individuals is according to the label on their identity cards.

In part, ethnic categorization in Rwanda is an artificial colonial legacy. After gaining control of the area from the Germans, the Belgians preferred to rule at a distance through the established power structure of the local Tutsi chiefs. Influenced by the "Hametic theory"--that Tutsi were the descendants of Noah's son, Ham--the Belgians tended to view the Tutsi as racially similar to themselves, as Europeans under a black skin (Destexhe, 1995, p. 38). The Belgians supported the mythology of Tutsi superiority and extended it into a policy of Hutu suppression. In 1933, the Belgians instituted identity cards, solidifying what, in the past, may have been permeable ethnic categories. Earlier, ethnicity had been conflated with class: a Hutu could become a Tutsi by virtue of owning a certain number of cattle (Keane, 1995). Once the ethnic categories hardened, however, the Tutsi-controlled government could use them to strengthen their hold on power. They controlled access to education and employment opportunities. Hutus were labeled as less intelligent and naturally subservient (Des Forges, 1995). Thus, a sense of inferiority developed which Hutu extremists could use in inciting fear of the Tutsi.

The identities carried by the Tutsi and Hutu became pervasive psychological elements of the genocide. The ruling Hutu elite in Rwanda felt threatened by the social and political upheaval in the early 1990s. As suggested above, the colonial discourse of ethnicity had established the Hutu as unequal to the Tutsi. In their own ideological discourse about the RPF and Tutsi, Hutu extremists played upon past victimization. They revived old stereotypes of Tutsi identity: a cunning, repressive people alien to Rwanda (Des Forges, 1995). The identity used to justify Tutsi domination in the past was used to justify the need for their elimination. The Hutu leaders portrayed the nation as vulnerable to Tutsi aggression, even claiming that the RPF intended to commit genocide against the Hutu--unless the Hutu struck first.

Genocide, as Fein (1999) has argued, is a rational act, a calculated measure. What did Hutu extremists believe they would gain by the killings? Primarily, their motivation was to consolidate political control in the face of growing political fragmentation (Smith, 1998; Lemarchand, 1995; Des Forges, 1999). As Gourevitch wryly observes, "genocide, after all, is an act of community building" (1998, p. 95). Threatened on several fronts--by the RPF militarily, by opposition parties politically--they needed to unify Hutus against a common enemy. The Hutu extremists differentiated between "us" and "them" by dividing their world into faithful Rwandans and "accomplices of the enemy" (Des Forges, 1999, p. 3). The key to the genocide was labeling the Tutsi population as accomplices of the RPF; thus, the entire Tutsi population became that enemy.

To galvanize ethnic division in the months leading up the genocide, a powerful campaign of devaluation was launched. The campaign emanated from the Akazu, the circle of elites surrounding the Rwandan President. The primary vehicle of devaluation was the radio, a highly influential information source for most Rwandans. Only days after the signing of the Arusha power-sharing accords, Radio Milles Collines began broadcasting (Gourevitch, 1998). Financed by government insiders, the station was powered by electricity from the generators at the Presidential mansion in Kigali (Chalk, 1999). Radio Milles Collines fomented suspicion of the Tutsi and psychological devaluation. The primary message was simple: the Tutsis are villainous colonizers bent on harming Hutus. Therefore, they must be killed. In order to dehumanize the Tutsi, the messages replaced the word "Tutsi" with "invenzi" (cockroach).

The devaluation was codified in what was known as the "Hutu Ten Commandments." Published in December of 1990, this document proclaimed that Tutsis were dishonest in business and interested only in dominating the Hutu, that Tutsi women were suspect, and that Tutsis should be denied positions of influence. The document also called for the Hutu to unify against their common enemy and stop having mercy on the Tutsi (Berry and Berry, 1999, p. 114-15). Such directives placed Tutsis outside the sphere of moral concern for the Hutu populace. It pushed toward what Staub calls a "reversal of morality" (1989, p. 18) in which violence against a target group is seen as virtuous service to the higher goals of a dominant group.

Cultural Preconditions: Antagonism and authority orientation

Staub (1989) identifies several cultural preconditions for genocide. They include authority orientation and an ideology of antagonism. In the case of Rwanda, these factors played an important role in enabling the killing.

The concept of "ideology of antagonism" highlights the legacy of past violence and devaluation, often unhealed wounds which set the stage for further violence. Past experiences of persecution support the belief that another group is a security threat.

During the years of Tutsi domination in Rwanda, Hutus were largely excluded from civil and political life. Access to jobs and economic resources were limited, and Hutus developed resentment against Tutsis. In 1959, when Hutus rebelled again Belgian colonial rule, thousands of Tutsi were killed and an estimated 150,000 Tutsis fled to Burundi. As Belgians began to withdraw from Rwanda, the nation became independent. Attacks on Tutsis escalated. An estimated 10 – 20,000 Tutsi were killed in the early 1960's and eventually half of the Rwandan Tutsis were living outside Rwanda.

From a psychological perspective, the authority orientation of the population suggests the degree to which people will follow the dictates of those in power. In Rwanda, there is ample evidence of a powerful authority orientation. In his visits to prisons after the genocide, Zarembo (1997) gives several examples of deeply ingrained deference to authority. For example, when government officials visit, prisoners clap respectfully. Prisoners working as cooks are entrusted with machetes--the very instrument some of them may have used to murder their neighbors. Zarembo even tells the story of a several suspected genocidaires who were broken out of their prison, only to return voluntarily. They wanted to obey the law.

Could such apparently conscientious people actually have been ruthless killers during the genocide? Zarembo (1997) argues that the authority orientation in Rwandan society is precisely what enabled otherwise docile citizens to become killers. People were in the habit of doing what they were told. Morality was understood as following the commands of those in power. Their government, in daily messages, was telling them that the Tutsis were a threat to the nation. And they did what the government asked them to do: "killing was the law, and Rwandans followed it" (Zarembo, 1997, p. 80).

Evolution of Violence

During the three months of killing, an estimated 75 – 150,000 people participated in the atrocities (Jefremovas, 1995). While historical antagonism and authority orientation prepare the way for mass violence, they do not fully explain how people learn to kill. To understand the violence in Rwanda, it is essential to examine how members of the public were prepared to become killers.

Mass killings rarely happen without precedent. Typically, less severe acts of violence pave the way for more egregious crimes. As Staub (1989) explains, people learn by doing: actions that harm others change the actor, lowering the barriers to further acts of aggression. Thus, in genocidal situations, large-scale killings are usually preceded by other incidents, incidents which ultimately become part of a "continuum of destruction" (p. 17). In Rwanda, there were several aspects to the continuum of destruction.

The RPF invasion in 1990 provided a rationale for the government to prepare the public for further violence. Hutu leaders called for the development of civil defense groups. The pretext of civil defense against the Tutsi invaders enabled the spread of further messages of devaluation and greater militarization of extremist sympathizers. Groups were gathered and provided training in the skills which would be later put to use in the killing of Tutsis: the use of grenades, the construction of roadblocks, the burning of houses. Only hours after the President's plane was shot down, roadblocks were erected across Kigali and the previous training was put into practice.

The breakdown of politics as usual was another factor which led to public violence. From 1962 to 1990, Rwanda was ruled by one party, the Mouvement Revolutionnaire National pour le Developpment (MRND). The advent of multi-party politics led to a destabilized political landscape, with several upstart parties wrestling for power. At a local level, this led to increased tensions and aggression. Opposition parties attempted to "liberate" members of other parties through intimidation. Attacks began symbolically, and physical violence soon followed (Wagner, 1998). In the angry political atmosphere of the time, genocide was "but a short step from the mundane routinized violence that had already taken over everyday life" (Wagner, 1998, p.36).

For a genocide to occur, there must be killers ready to do the job. In the early 1990s, militias emerged in Rwanda as the tensions between parties escalated. The militia sponsored by the MRND, the interahamwe, became the main perpetrator of violence against the Tutsis. Like other paramilitary groups, the interahamwe was attractive to jobless young men looking for an affiliation that promised identity and power over others.

The militias used symbols of wealth and power to attract youth and initiate them into the practices of terror. Gourevitch (1998) vividly captures the development of the militia:

Hutu Power youth leaders, jetting around on motorbikes and sporting pop hairstyles, dark glasses, and flamboyantly colored pajama suits and robes, preached ethnic solidarity and civil defense to increasingly packed rallies, where alcohol usually flowed freely, giant banners splashed with hagiographic portraits of Habyarimana flapped in the breeze, and paramilitary drills were conducted like the latest hot dance moves. The President and his wife often turned out to be cheered at these spectacles, while in private the members of the interahamwe were organized into small neighborhood bands, drew up lists of Tutsis, and went on retreats to practice burning houses, tossing grenades, and hacking dummies up with machetes (p. 93).

The formation of the militias was an instrumental preparation for the genocide. Initiation ceremonies as described above insured loyalty to the ruling party, developed positive connection within the group, and built confidence that illegal actions were endorsed by the state.

To spread the violence beyond trained troops and militias at the onset of the genocide, it was necessary to bring civilians into the circle of killers. Local leaders offered incentives for those who would join the death squads: the promise of vacated fields, farm animals, building materials, and cash (Des Forges, 1999). Leaders also threatened people who would not collaborate. The threats, material incentives, and experience of membership in a group of killers enabled otherwise non-aggressive individuals to murder.

At an individual level, the evolution of violence is well illustrated in a case discussed by Zarembo (1997). He interviewed a farmer named Innocent Nsengiyumva imprisoned for killing two children. His story indicates how simply murder can become part of a day's work:

Killing was a job. The local Hutu official had a list of victims, and each morning the peasants gathered with their weapons--machetes for most, a homemade wooden club spiked with nails for Innocent. For the first week he only watched, he says, 'like a child watching something his father is doing.' The killers drank at the bars they passed, went home for lunch, and resumed in the afternoons. His turn came when the crowd spotted the two children. They didn't try to escape, he says, and didn't scream until he sunk the nails into the side of one of their heads (1997, p. 70).