By Jonas Eugène O. Kota
A new video of Belgian lawyer Bernard Maingain is making the rounds on social media. True to his reputation for defending some of the most controversial causes, Maingain accuses the Wazalendo—recently formed self-defense groups in the DRC—of harboring exterminationist intentions against Rwanda-speaking populations, particularly the Tutsis. While the Congolese public legitimately denounces the deadly incursions by Rwanda, which for thirty years have brought death and devastation to Congolese soil, Kigali has twisted this popular outrage into a supposed threat against the Tutsis, solely to divert attention from its true ambitions in the DRC. For three decades, this narrative has served as a smokescreen for Paul Kagame’s military and economic objectives.
A claim without evidence
For thirty years, Rwanda has waved the threat of a purported extermination of Tutsis in the DRC. Yet no credible report, statistic, or documented assessment has ever substantiated this danger. Even Bernard Maingain, quick to defend clients close to Kagame’s regime, has never produced, in any courtroom or in any of his polemical works, a single reliable study or figure to support his claims.
The fabrication is even bolder today: the Wazalendo have existed for less than two years, while Kigali’s rhetoric about a Tutsi threat has persisted for thirty. How can one retroactively accuse forces that didn’t even exist?
A telling timing
Maingain’s media sortie is far from accidental. It comes at a time when the M23, backed by Kigali, is increasingly vulnerable both on the ground and diplomatically. This vulnerability stems from the fact that one key element of the preliminary arrangement between the Congolese government and the M23—prisoner exchanges—has advanced toward a political agreement. Kigali therefore needed a new pretext, and it didn’t look far: capitalizing on the maximalist rhetoric of certain crowds protesting a general assigned to Uvira, a highly sensitive security zone today.
In Uvira, a few extremist voices recently expressed concerns over internal Congolese tensions, with no connection to any threatened community. Kigali is now trying to exploit these isolated expressions to revive its old narrative. Once again, Maingain serves as the compliant mouthpiece.
The regime’s lawyer
Since the late 1990s, Bernard Maingain has established himself as the go-to legal defender of those close to Rwanda’s power circle. From Brussels to Paris, he has represented officers, politicians, and businessmen accused of the most serious crimes related to the genocide and regional conflicts.
Among them are Colonel Ephrem Setako, former senior official in the Ministry of Defense and close to the Rwandan Patriotic Front (FPR); Laurent Bucyibaruta, a prefect during the genocide who played a central role in administrative control; and Wenceslas Munyeshyaka, a priest with a controversial record whose responsibilities Kigali long sought to minimize, despite his central role in areas controlled by the FAR and his ties to networks close to the current power.
Each of these figures maintained direct or indirect connections to Paul Kagame’s regime: some benefited from discreet protections or tacit agreements to ensure their silence, while others served as diplomatic assets for Kigali in its communication strategy and memory management of the genocide.
These trials, held in Belgium and France under universal jurisdiction, have left lasting marks on Kigali-Brussels relations. Kagame’s regime accused Belgium of paternalism, neocolonialism, and interference in Rwanda’s internal affairs, claiming that allowing these prosecutions violated Rwandan sovereignty, even though the alleged crimes were punishable under international law.
A sulfureous profile
By defending the indefensible, Maingain has become far more than a lawyer: he is a political actor in disguise, a channel of influence for Kigali. His advocacy goes beyond the law, feeding a communication strategy designed to demonize Rwanda’s opponents and justify its bloody military expansion in eastern DRC.
This is particularly evident today: Bernard Maingain is among the lawyers who recently filed, on behalf of a Congolese collective, a complaint before Belgian courts against nine members of the Tshisekedi presidential family (sister-in-law, son, brothers, cousins, and even the First Lady) over alleged predation of DRC mineral resources.
In the trial of Franco-Cameroonian writer Charles Onana in France, where Onana was accused of genocide denial, Bernard Maingain was called by the Rwandan prosecutors as a witness for the prosecution.
Maingain’s latest video is just another episode in a long saga: that of a European lawyer who, for thirty years, has recycled the same unproven accusations, actively participating in a propaganda war with disastrous human consequences.
