After yesterday’s somewhat guardedly optimistic blog about Congolese Election Day, it is becoming clearer that many Congolese people are unhappy about the voting process and the possible outcome, and many more are fearful of violent reactions from political groups.

According to the NY Times, the head of CENI is threatening to disqualify thousands of opposition votes, due to attacks on polling stations in areas mostly loyal to Etienne Tshisekedi and other opposition candidates.  This, along with all the stories of voting fraud and violence filtering in from around the country, is sure to leave many Congolese feeling disenchanted with the entire process.  In addition, many international observers have described the voting process as chaotic and “problematic”.  A few independent organizations have publicly denounced voting irregularities.

In even more interesting news, the BBC is reporting that 4 opposition candidates, including Vital Kamerhe, are declaring the entire election fraudulent and demanding an annulment of the results.  These candidates are specifically accusing the CENI and Joseph Kabila of being responsible for voting irregularities (see the link for a list of the alleged irregularities).  Again, potentially troubling, as further delays and further mistrust in the process may signal an increase in violent confrontations between opposition supporters and state security elements.

Kabila’s constitutional mandate will end on December 6th.  If there is no clear winner by then, or if the loser(s) reject the declared winner of the election, it may be the start of a new era of violence and unrest in the Congo.

At this critical juncture, Congo still has the potential to spiral out of control.  Will Congo descend into the post-election madness experienced by Cote d’Ivoire earlier this year?  Right now, it seems entirely possible.

Yesterday, I spoke with a Bujumbura-residing Uvirois who had went back to Uvira to vote over the weekend; he grimly showed me the ink-stain on his thumb with which he certified his ballot.  He told me that Uvira was calm and violence-free on Election Day.  However, he expressed strong dissatisfaction with the entire election process, based on the numerous accounts of fraud and violence from other regions.  He also bemoaned the lack of international election observers in Uvira.  While not a representative sample, the angry words and angry actions being expressed by many Congolese across the country are testament to a common spirit of discontent with the voting process for those who are hoping to unseat Kabila.

A presidential election is supposed to occur in 2011, and current president Joseph Kabila faces some strong competition from Congolese politicians Vital Kamerhe and Etienne Tshisekedi. However, this last week Joseph Kabila “convinced” the National Assembly to change the Constitution in a way that basically guarantees his re-election this year.

Previously, the Congolese Presidential Election was a two-part election where the two top candidates from the first voting stage faced each other in a run-off (majority decision). Now, the Constitution is changed to a one-part election where victory is based on a plurality. Thus, Kabila can basically flood the candidate field with his people and guarantee a plurality for himself. Usually, the DRC National Assembly takes months and months to deliberate the stupidest petty law. However, by paying $20,000 to each MP voting yea, Kabila was able to get the constitutional changes pushed through in the fastest legislative action in Congolese history. The changes passed by a vote of 334 yeas, 1 nay, and 2 abstentions. 163 of the MPs walked out in protest. No one knows how much he paid the much-smaller Congolese Senate to pass these changes, but rest assured it was much more.

It is perfectly clear that Kabila is carefully calculating the demise of what little democracy is left in the DRC in order to maintain control. He is also consolidating control among the provincial governors, to the point that any provincial governor who displeases him can be immediately dismissed. Thus, the government far away from Kinshasa in an area like South Kivu has even less power and will to enact development action and improve the daily lives of the citizens.

Strong opposition to Kabila’s political maneuverings from the Congolese people would surely result in a brutal backlash from the military, adding more violence to an already war-torn region. Thus, the Congo seems to be destined to another six years of destitute poverty and harmful compromise sustained by a self-serving government that refuses to aid its citizens. Roads will not be built, clean water will not be provided, and the military will continue to prey on the citizens they are sworn to protect.

Congolese posters in French and Swahili demanding for an end to corruption

Congolese posters in French and Swahili demanding for an end to corruption

Tous les gens sont terrorizés

(All the people are terrorized)

This is what the reggae singer is screaming through Radio France International. I am writing this as my neighbors and I settle in for the night. You are not supposed to go out at night; you should not go to the bar. If you go to the bar in town, there will be soldiers there. Soldiers usually mean trouble. Back in the days of Mobutu, the soldiers complained to their supreme leader that they were not being paid for their service. Mobutu replied that their gun was their salary, their wife, their mother, their means for feeding themselves and taking whatever they wanted from the civilian population. Although Mobutu is gone, his statement is echoed in the actions of every armed faction running around Eastern Congo. Just about everyone you meet has been affected, everyone has a relative who has died in a massacre, at the hands of bandits, or from starvation or illness directly caused by the displacement of war.

This past week, an officer from the DGM (the Congolese immigration bureau) has been storming around Uvira with a policeman, looking to arrest me because I had failed to grease his palm. As I wrote about earlier, I was already forced to pay off the ANR to get my passport back, and I had registered legally with the DGM when I crossed the border. So, now I was forced to play cat-and-mouse because some fat bureaucrat wanted his beer money from the mzungu. I decided to go to the DGM and face the music, but thankfully Arche d’Alliance sent someone from their legal team with me. I was not arrested, but I had to fill out some more forms and pay a “paperwork” fee of $40. However, there is no future guarantee of protection, and the DGM might come after me again for more money. There is zero accountability, and the government in Kinshasa is deeply corrupt, so local officials feel they have a carte blanche to make up the rules to line their pockets. However, one must remember that no matter how bad things get for me, it is still a lot worse for the ordinary Congolese citizen. This is why the work of organizations such as Arche d’Alliance is so important.

If you are trying to rebuild civil society in Eastern Congo, you are indeed a brave individual. Creating a world of law, order, and harmony in an environment filled with bloodshed and corruption is indeed a daunting task. I greatly admire these people that are trying to move the mountain, one pebble at a time.

One of the things required of newcomers in Uvira is meeting with the ANR, the office of local intelligence, a relic of Mobutu’s paranoia.  The office for our quartier is not too far from where we live, so Ned, Isidord, Pascal (my neighbor), and I weaved our way to the crumbling brick building.  The secretary of the ANR, a small, suspicious-looking gentleman with shifty eyes, perused my passport with interest.  He then announced that my visa from the embassy in Bujumbura was not sufficient to travel between the 11 provinces of the DRC, and I needed to register with the Grand Chef de l’ANR, the big boss.  The secretary called his boss, who arrived about forty minutes later, completely drunk.  The Grand Chef stumbled in, yelling at me in Swahili, but eventually gathered his faculties enough to sit down and speak to me in French.  He made me fill out another bogus “registration” form, and even had me fill out the part that read “for administration only”.  After this was done he took my passport and demanded 30 American dollars to complete my “registration”.  When we protested, he put my passport in his dossier and got up as if to leave.  We acquiesced, and I slipped him three ten-dollar bills.  The Grand Chef and his secretary chuckled with satisfaction, and we left without further ado.  The form I filled out will probably be used to light charcoal.

So, such is corruption.  However, one must remember that shaking down mzungu for $30 is one of the nicer things that corrupt government officials do around here.  Imagine what life is like for ordinary Congolese, who are exploited and pushed around by the powers-that-be every day.  There is a prominent yet ironic billboard in town depicting a FARDC soldier shielding fearful Congolese peasants from missiles and bombs falling from neighboring lands.  The irony is that Congolese people have a lot to fear from the predatory actions of agents of their own government, not just from invading armies.  This is what it must be like to be completely powerless, ravaged without respite by marauders both foreign and domestic.