The distant echoes of gunfire reverberate through the rugged hills of eastern Congo. The M23 forces, resolute and battle-hardened, push deeper into the heart of the region. On the other side, the Congolese army, ill-prepared and disoriented, stumbles backward. Soldiers dressed in ragged uniforms run in fear, their faces marked with confusion. One young soldier, barely a teenager, struggles to carry a weapon far too heavy for his frail frame. Another is seen crying, terrified of running out of rounds. These are the same soldiers who, just months ago, ravaged villages, burning homes, raping women, and even cannibalizing the bodies of their victims. Now, they are retreating, disbanding under the weight of their own incompetence. Meanwhile, the M23 advances, fighting not just for land but for the survival of their people, demanding justice after decades of oppression.
In this chaotic battlefield, a more profound question arises: what will happen when the lions—Congo’s people—finally reclaim their land? Will the Western mineral thieves, who have long viewed Congo’s wealth as their personal treasure chest, finally be forced to leave, or will they continue to pillage while the people suffer?
Congo’s story is one of untapped potential marred by exploitation. Beneath its soil lies vast mineral wealth, a potential blessing that has instead become a curse. For years, the West, along with its Congolese allies, has capitalized on the country’s instability, looting its resources while ignoring the brutal atrocities committed by the government and its military. The Tutsi population in the east has borne the brunt of this violence, left to endure a life of suffering while the international community turns a blind eye.
The M23 movement, born from years of persecution, is not an external force. It is a response to the government’s systematic oppression of the Tutsi people, a movement formed by Congolese Tutsi who have been marginalized, displaced, and attacked by their own government. The M23 is not after resources; they are fighting for survival and justice for their people. They are pounding the DRC army, a force that is starving, poorly trained, and lacking the means to defend themselves. Reports from the frontlines describe soldiers running in disarray, their morale shattered, and their equipment insufficient for the task. One report described soldiers frantically running like confused gazelles in an open field. Just hours before Goma airport was closed, planes were seen illegally flying out minerals plundered from the region. The airport was busy, and yet, the international community looked the other way.
The collapse of the Congolese military is a direct result of years of mismanagement and corruption. The government has failed its people, and yet the West continues to support it, profiting from the chaos. The government’s failure to deliver basic services, security, or governance has left its citizens vulnerable, and the international community has continued to enable this dysfunction. Western capitals are now in shock, concerned about the rapid shifts taking place on the ground. The puzzle has become increasingly complicated, and they are beginning to realize that their long-standing arrangement with Congo’s corrupt government may soon come to an end.
Who are these Western powers? They are the same countries and corporations that have long benefited from Congo’s instability, looting its resources while turning a blind eye to the suffering of its people. They are the ones who have propped up a government that has allowed violence to fester in the region, benefiting from cheap access to Congo’s minerals while its people languish in poverty. And now, they are worried about what will happen if Congo’s leadership changes—what if a more competent, organized government rises to power, one that would put the interests of its people before those of foreign corporations?
Such a shift would be a game-changer. The West has long relied on Congo’s instability to maintain control over the country’s vast mineral wealth. If Congo were to be led by a government that values its people and its resources, it could end the free flow of minerals that have been extracted without regard for the country’s sovereignty or the welfare of its people. This is a prospect that deeply worries Western capitals, as it would mean the end of their free access to Congo’s wealth.
Meanwhile, the true perpetrators—the Congolese government and its allies, including the genocidal FDLR militia—continue to unleash terror in eastern Congo. The FDLR, responsible for the 1994 genocide in Rwanda, has found refuge in Congo, and the Congolese military has integrated them into its ranks. Together, they have committed horrific acts of violence: burning villages, massacring civilians, and displacing entire communities. These are not the actions of a rebel group; they are state-sponsored atrocities. Yet, the West has chosen to focus on Rwanda, blaming it for the unrest while ignoring the real source of the violence in Congo.
This hypocrisy is not new. A recently declassified U.S. Consulate cable from 1965 reveals that Western powers have long known about the discriminatory policies of the Congolese government against the Banyarwanda—the Tutsi population of Congo. The cable described how the government systematically marginalized the Banyarwanda, stripping them of citizenship and labeling them as “refugees” in their own land. This exclusion sowed the seeds for decades of violence, and the West was aware of it all along. Yet, instead of addressing these injustices, the West has continued to support the Congolese government, even as it engages in ethnic cleansing and genocide.
But now, the tides are changing. The M23, a movement born out of oppression, is gaining ground. The people of eastern Congo are rising up, demanding their rights, their land, and their freedom. The Congolese government, instead of addressing the legitimate grievances of its people, has chosen to scapegoat Rwanda—a country that has long fought to protect its borders and its citizens from the threat of the FDLR. The M23 is not an invasion; it is a legitimate response to years of abuse and neglect.
The question now is: will the West continue to support a corrupt and incompetent government that has failed its people? Or will they finally recognize the truth: that the real enemy is not Rwanda, but the Congolese government and its allies who have perpetuated the violence for decades? The lions have occupied their land, and the West must decide: will they continue to exploit the land for their own gain, or will they allow Congo’s people to reclaim their future?
The people of eastern Congo deserve better. They deserve a government that protects them, that values their lives and their rights. They deserve a world that acknowledges their suffering, not one that uses them as pawns in geopolitical games. The lions have occupied their land, but the question remains: will the Western mineral thieves finally be forced to leave, or will they continue to exploit the region’s riches at the expense of its people? The answer to this question will shape the future of Congo and the region for generations to come.