By Jonas Eugène Kota
It’s a little-known page in the history of the Great Lakes region — one that few diplomatic circles ever mention. On March 31, 2005, in Rome, the leaders of the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR) — those Hutu combatants who fled into eastern Congo after the fall of the 1994 genocidal regime — officially extended an olive branch to President Paul Kagame, in an unprecedented gesture of renunciation of armed struggle.
Under the auspices of the Community of Sant’Egidio, and in the presence of both European and African observers, the FDLR delegation committed to laying down its arms and returning peacefully to Rwanda — provided that Kigali agreed to an inclusive political dialogue and guaranteed the safety of returnees.
A hand extended to Kigali
The signatories, led by Ignace Murwanashyaka, the FDLR’s political leader, issued a historic declaration of peace. The text, written in unequivocal terms, expressed the group’s will to reject all genocidal ideology, to cease hostilities, and to open the path toward national reconciliation in Rwanda.
In that declaration, the FDLR explicitly pledged to:
- Renounce the use of force to seize power in Rwanda;
- Condemn the 1994 genocide and distance themselves from any political or moral responsibility for it;
- Cooperate with international justice mechanisms, including the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR), and work toward a peaceful and voluntary repatriation of its members.
The event, held discreetly behind the walls of Sant’Egidio, marked a turning point: for the first time, the FDLR stepped out of military secrecy to present itself as a political interlocutor.
The decisive role of the DRC — and Mbusa Nyamwisi’s hand
This emergence from the shadows was no coincidence. It bore the signature of Antipas Mbusa Nyamwisi, then Congo’s Minister of Regional Cooperation, whose political acumen and network in both rebel and diplomatic circles proved crucial.
Having himself once led an armed movement, Mbusa understood the psychology of the fighters. He managed to establish a relationship of trust with their representatives — a feat that owed much to his own credibility in those circles. His initiative received quiet but vital support from the Community of Sant’Egidio, which lent its moral authority and diplomatic weight to guarantee this peace effort.
It was this unlikely tandem — a former rebel turned minister and a Roman religious community — that opened the historic breach of Rome.
Kofi Annan welcomes, Paul Kagame rejects
The outstretched hand did not go unnoticed in diplomatic circles.
UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan reacted immediately with an official statement on March 31, 2005.
In that communiqué, the United Nations declared itself “encouraged by the declaration made in Rome”, emphasizing that the FDLR had renounced the use of force, condemned the 1994 genocide, and committed to voluntary disarmament and cooperation with international justice mechanisms.
Kofi Annan urged the governments of the DRC and Rwanda to work together to facilitate the peaceful return of combatants, calling on MONUC to “do all in its power” to support the process.
At the time, the UN saw in this initiative a possible turning point for peace and stability in the Great Lakes region.
But on the ground, that spark of hope never ignited. Kigali remained unmoved.
The Rwandan government flatly rejected the FDLR’s gesture, refusing any dialogue with what it continued to describe as a terrorist organization responsible for genocide.
Within days, Rwandan diplomacy accused the FDLR of trying to “whitewash its past” and deflect attention from its crimes. Kagame’s official line remained unchanged: no political contact with génocidaires.
The result was immediate — the hope born in Rome withered before it could bear fruit.
The West looks away — and the consequences
International partners remained timid. The European Union, the United Nations, and even the United States praised the “spirit of Rome” but failed to put any real pressure on Kigali to reopen channels of dialogue.
In Kinshasa, some ministers — among them Antipas Mbusa Nyamwisi, a rising star of Congolese diplomacy and native of North Kivu — saw in that moment a historic opportunity to pacify the region for good.
“If that outstretched hand had been taken, the FDLR issue would have been settled twenty years ago,” confided a former European diplomat involved in the process.
Kigali’s refusal, combined with international passivity, prolonged the FDLR’s presence in eastern Congo — fueling two decades of mistrust and cycles of violence.
In effect, the silence of 2005 froze the situation: the FDLR retreated deeper into the Congolese bush, morphing into fragmented survival militias, while Kigali continued to invoke their threat as justification for repeated incursions into Congo — often through proxy movements.
Meanwhile, the people of Kivu have continued to pay the price — in blood.
A missed appointment with history
Twenty years later, diplomats now admit, albeit half-heartedly, that Rome 2005 was an ignored turning point.
An internal Sant’Egidio memo, never made public, even refers to the “sincere will” of the FDLR leaders to turn the page on war.
But Rwanda wanted none of it. Kigali’s hardline prevailed, and voices of reconciliation were drowned in silence.
