Romania’s most visible recent encounter with the Democratic Republic of Congo came through the barrel of a gun.
Hundreds of Romanian military contractors were deployed in eastern DRC, where they worked alongside the Congolese army in its campaign against AFC/M23.
When Goma fell in January 2025, nearly 300 of them abandoned the battlefield, sought protection at United Nations facilities and crossed into Rwanda before being flown home.
Now Romania has returned to the centre of Congolese politics through diplomacy.
The DRC has moved to withdraw its own African candidate, Juliana Amato Lumumba, and support former Romanian prime minister Dacian Cioloș for secretary-general of the Organisation internationale de la Francophonie.
Cioloș presented Kinshasa’s support as an act of unity.
“My thanks to the DRC for its trust in my vision and its commitment to consensus,” he said. “Let’s move beyond competition and embrace cooperation.”
He also thanked Lumumba for her commitment to the unity of the Francophonie and declared that dialogue remained open to everyone.
Rwanda’s Foreign Minister, Olivier Nduhungirehe, responded by tearing apart the claim of consensus.
“Any non-African candidate for a position in an international organisation, backed by an African state that has withdrawn its own candidate, doing so in flagrant violation of a formal decision by the African Union, cannot logically be considered a ‘consensus candidate’ from the perspective of the African Union’s member states,” Nduhungirehe said.
His message was simple. A European candidate may be legally entitled to contest, but he cannot be presented as Africa’s consensus choice after an African government withdraws an African woman in defiance of a continental decision.
The African Union endorsed the three African women in the contest: incumbent Secretary-General Louise Mushikiwabo of Rwanda, Juliana Amato Lumumba of the DRC and Coumba Bâ of Mauritania.
Its decision called upon African members of the Francophonie to choose among them. Kinshasa instead turned to Europe.
That decision becomes even more politically uncomfortable when placed against the recent history of Romanian mercenaries in the DRC.
The Romanian contractors were part of a private military network associated with Horațiu Potra, a former member of the French Foreign Legion.
They were hired to train Congolese troops, protect strategic installations and support military operations against AFC/M23.
United Nations investigators documented the involvement of private military companies in strategic planning, reconnaissance, logistics, artillery operations and support for Congolese military aircraft. Congo Protection, which employed large numbers of Romanians, operated within this wider military structure.
But when the front collapsed, the expensive foreign force collapsed with it.
A United Nations Group of Experts report recorded that 291 Congo Protection personnel sought protection at MONUSCO facilities during the assault on Goma. Negotiations involving the United Nations and Rwanda eventually secured their evacuation to Romania through Kigali.
Images of Romanian contractors being searched, disarmed and transported through Rwanda became a humiliating symbol of Kinshasa’s failed dependence on foreign guns.
Some contractors reportedly earned thousands of dollars every month while ordinary Congolese soldiers received a fraction of that amount. Yet when Goma came under decisive pressure, the foreign fighters escaped while Congolese civilians and soldiers remained behind to face the consequences.
There is no public evidence that Cioloș was involved in recruiting, managing or deploying those mercenaries. He must therefore be judged on his own programme and political record.
But the symbolism cannot be wished away.
Romania first entered this chapter of Congo’s crisis through highly paid military contractors. After that project ended in surrender, Kinshasa is now helping a Romanian politician pursue one of the most influential diplomatic positions in the French-speaking world.
For many Africans, the sequence will look deeply troubling. The DRC hired Romanian guns, abandoned an African candidacy and then embraced a Romanian candidate under the language of “consensus.”
Consensus, however, is not created by repeating the word.
Nduhungirehe also exposed what he described as European hypocrisy. He said the same European governments that constantly lecture Africans about democracy and electoral competition were now warning that holding a vote in the Francophonie could create division.
“It is rather amusing,” he said, that European countries which praise democracy “every day” could look African delegates “straight in the eye and with their hands on their hearts” and argue that voting was dangerous.
That argument places Europe in an awkward corner.
If elections are healthy for African countries, why should an election be considered dangerous when a European candidate faces African competitors? If Cioloș has sufficient support, he can win through a transparent vote. He does not need to be carried into office under a manufactured consensus.
The OIF’s rules provide for consensus, but they also permit a vote when consensus cannot be reached. Its 53 full members are therefore capable of deciding the matter openly.
This is now about more than Cioloș, Mushikiwabo, Lumumba or Bâ. It is a test of whether African Union decisions carry any weight when European interests enter the room.
The DRC has every sovereign right to support the candidate of its choice. But it cannot reasonably withdraw its African candidate, disregard an African Union position, embrace a European contender and then demand that the rest of Africa call the arrangement “consensus.”
Romanian mercenaries came to Congo with weapons and left through Rwanda after their mission collapsed. A Romanian politician has now arrived through diplomacy, carried by Kinshasa’s support.
This time, Africa is being asked to surrender its position without a single shot being fired.
