By Daniel Levine-Spound
ON 27 January, the Rwandan military and an armed group known as the M23 seized Goma — the largest city in the eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo and a key humanitarian relief hub — in a lightning offensive that has imperilled more than a million civilians.
While the two forces’ intentions remain uncertain – evidence points to the possibility of long-term occupation or even annexation – one thing is clear: none of this would have been possible without the complicity of a range of Western and African states.
The takeover of Goma is not without precedent. The M23 first emerged in 2012 as the latest in a string of Rwanda-supported armed groups operating in eastern DRC since the mid-1990s. Then, as now, the group ultimately managed to take over Goma.
But that is where the resemblance ends. In 2012, international actors quickly mobilised after the Goma takeover. Key donors like the United States and the European Union announced massive freezes in financial support to Rwanda, while South Africa and other regional states sent soldiers to DRC to establish the Force Intervention Brigade, a part of the UN peacekeeping mission with an explicitly offensive mandate.
Under an avalanche of international pressure, Rwanda (which has long sought to build political and economic influence in eastern DRC by backing proxy forces) ceased supporting the M23. The group then quickly disintegrated in the face of a renewed military offensive by the Congolese army and its partners.
How different things look in 2025. While African states like Angola and Kenya have led efforts to resolve the crisis, other states – particularly among Rwanda’s largest Western donors – have failed to coordinate any meaningful opposition, even as more than 3,000 Rwandan soldiers have crossed into DRC (recent estimates are even higher.)
Donor hypocrisy
France is a good example. Last week, after an emergency UN Security Council briefing, the French foreign minister expressed his “solidarity” with DRC and “firmly condemned the M23’s offensive, supported by the Rwandan army”.
Yet several months prior, the European Peace Facility (an EU agency) awarded €20 million to the Rwandan army. The objective? Supporting Rwanda’s military’s action in Mozambique where Total, the largest company in France, has critical gas investments.
Indeed, reports even suggest that a high-ranking army officer in the EU-backed Rwandan mission in Mozambique has also directed military operations in eastern DRC.
France is not alone. In 2022, the former UK government helped organise the Commonwealth Summit in Kigali, Rwanda’s capital. Just a few hours drive away from the summit, M23 combatants were accused of intentionally killing dozens of civilians.
The former UK government also sought to strike a migration deal with Kigali, under which asylum seekers from the UK would be deported to Rwanda. The plan has now been scrapped, but it is one of many that may have helped Kigali build geopolitical capital.
Rwanda’s supporters are not confined to Western donors. Uganda, one of DRC’s neighbours, is credibly accused of supporting the M23. And in the UN Security Council, states like Sierra Leone, Algeria, Somalia, and Guyana have actively resisted explicitly naming Rwanda in a Council statement condemning the M23.
UN leadership has been similarly tepid. On 26 January, UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres made a rare call for Rwanda to “cease support to the M23 and withdraw from DRC territory.” But Rwanda remains one of the most important contributors to UN peacekeeping missions around the world, a key source of financial support – and political prestige – for the Rwandan government. The fact that 17 UN peacekeepers have died as a result of the latest Rwanda/M23 offensive has not, as of yet, affected Rwanda’s status as one of UN peacekeeping’s key contributors.
Taking action
The current M23 insurgency began in 2021 and has seen the group battle the Congolese army as well as allied local militias, UN peacekeepers, and international forces under two regional bodies – the Southern African Development Community and the East African Community.
All told Rwandan and M23 forces have taken over vast areas of North Kivu province (of which Goma is the provincial capital), conquering dozens of cities and towns, setting up new governance administrations and taxation systems, establishing military training camps, and exporting minerals directly to Rwanda.
The consequences for civilians have been catastrophic. Close to two million have been displaced, nearly 400,000 of whom fled their homes in January alone. Many live in makeshift camps with limited access to food, water, shelter, or medical care. Rates of waterborne diseases and sexual violence are soaring.
The international community has the tools to exert pressure on Rwanda and end this humanitarian emergency.
In the three years since the latest M23 offensive began, donor states could have announced the freezing of financial support to Rwanda contingent on its withdrawal from DRC and cessation of support to the M23, just as they did over ten years ago.
The US and EU could have imposed sanctions targeting higher-level Rwandan officials (having previously announced sanctions on lower-level ones). And the International Criminal Court, which continues to investigate alleged crimes in North Kivu, could have issued arrest warrants, as it has in Ukraine and Gaza.
As the Congolese Foreign Minister recently called for, states could also have restricted Rwanda’s ability to export minerals mined from M23-controlled areas. And of course, Uganda could stop supporting the rebels, while states like Sierra Leone and Algeria could stop protecting Rwanda in the UN Security Council.
Efforts to hold Rwanda accountable could have reinforced regional peace efforts led by Angola (which is mandated by the African Union to mediate between DRC and Rwanda) and Kenya (which is focused on domestic political dialogue in DRC).
But mostly, these steps have not been taken — and often, the most powerful actors have done just the opposite. In early 2024, for instance, the EU signed a memorandum of understanding with Rwanda to facilitate the country’s exportation of raw materials, despite credible reports that the M23 has been exploiting natural resources from DRC.
An act of aggression
Critics will call this an oversimplified version of recent events — and, up to a point, they are right.
Rwanda has refused to acknowledge its deployment into DRC or support to the M23. But Rwandan officials have spoken about security concerns that are apparently motivating the actions, including the Congolese army’s collaboration with the FDLR, a rebel group founded in DRC by the exiled Hutu extremists behind the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda.
The M23’s justifications have, meanwhile, shifted over time, from claims about Kinshasa’s failure to uphold a previous peace agreement with the group, to the need to protect Congolese Tutsi (the community from which most M23 leaders hail) from discrimination to complaints about the country’s governance.
None of these claims, however, offer legitimate explanations for Rwanda or the M23’s recent actions.
Lacking a plausible self-defence claim, Kigali’s actions amount to a clear violation of international law; an act of aggression against a weaker neighbour that has had humanitarian consequences on par with the bloodshed in Ukraine, Gaza, and Sudan.
While it is true that the Congolese army has collaborated with the FDLR in recent years, research suggests that the cooperation was triggered in response to the M23 insurgency, not the other way around. Moreover, while Rwanda’s leadership may have legitimate concerns related to the FDLR, it was a largely spent force before the M23’s re-emergence, and its presence cannot explain the astonishing scale of Rwanda’s intervention – nor the M23’s calls to overthrow the Congolese government.
Similarly, the emergence of the M23 has led to increased discrimination against Tutsi in DRC, as many have unfairly blamed the wider community for the insurgency. And while poor governance is a pervasive challenge, it hardly justifies plans to overthrow the Congolese government and install a puppet regime.
In reality, Rwanda’s invasion (and support of the M23) is likely motivated primarily by economic and political interests and geopolitical rivalries. Kigali has long perceived eastern DRC as part of its zone of influence and an area of economic exploitation. Directly prior to the re-emergence of the M23, it felt it was losing ground to regional competitors.
Lacking a plausible self-defence claim, Kigali’s actions amount to a clear violation of international law; an act of aggression against a weaker neighbour that has had humanitarian consequences on par with the bloodshed in Ukraine, Gaza, and Sudan. Despite this, the international community has manifestly failed to impose meaningful consequences for Rwanda’s flagrant violation of the UN Charter.
As Rwandan and M23 forces now push towards the Congolese city of Bukavu, the capital of DRC’s South Kivu province, there are signs that some states are changing course. UK Foreign Minister David Lammy warned Rwandan President Paul Kagame that $1 billion in aid was “under threat”; Germany cancelled talks with Rwanda on “further development cooperation”.
But warnings are not good enough. Will states — including Rwanda’s powerful donors — take the hard steps needed to hold it accountable? Or will they continue to prioritise other interests over the lives of millions of Congolese? Time — counted in days, not weeks and months — will tell.
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The New Humanitarian puts quality, independent journalism at the service of the millions of people affected by humanitarian crises around the world. Find out more at www.thenewhumanitarian.org.
