A Dangerous Political Move in the Democratic Republic of Congo
The government of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) has taken a step that could have far-reaching consequences. On Tuesday, September 30, a military court sentenced former president Joseph Kabila to death in absentia on charges of treason, war crimes, and crimes against humanity. This decision marks a significant escalation in the country’s political turmoil, which is already plagued by over a hundred armed groups, secessionist tensions, and weak governance.
For a nation struggling with instability, this move is not just unusual—it is dangerous. The sentence raises critical questions about whether Kinshasa, under President Félix Tshisekedi, has gone too far in its quest for political dominance, potentially plunging the DRC into deeper chaos.
From Power Broker to Enemy of the State
Joseph Kabila’s influence in Congolese politics cannot be overstated. He came to power in 2001 after the assassination of his father, Laurent-Désiré Kabila, and ruled for 18 years before stepping down in 2019. His transition to Tshisekedi was initially seen as a peaceful transfer of power, but beneath the surface, there were deep-seated disagreements over judicial appointments and control of electoral institutions. These tensions eventually led to a split between the two leaders.
In December 2023, Kabila left the country for South Africa, where he briefly pursued postgraduate studies. However, he resurfaced in May 2025 in Goma, a city controlled by the M23 rebels. By then, the Senate had stripped him of diplomatic immunity, accusing him of being sympathetic to M23 and even supporting their rebellion.
Kabila denied these charges, calling the trial arbitrary and the courts “instruments of oppression.” Yet, his speeches criticizing Tshisekedi—accusing the government of dictatorship, tribalism, and selling Congo’s mineral wealth to foreign powers—only deepened suspicions. The death sentence now formalizes what many feared: the rivalry has turned into an existential confrontation.
A Dangerous Precedent in Africa
Judicial executions of former heads of state are rare in Africa. While coups, assassinations, and forced exiles are common, legal executions remain exceptional. The DRC’s decision comes at a time when several African nations are also grappling with similar issues.
In Uganda, opposition leader Dr Kizza Besigye has been in prison for nearly a year, charged with treason, which carries the death penalty. In Tanzania, firebrand politician Tundu Lissu faces similar charges, while in South Sudan, Riek Machar is also detained on treason charges. However, even in these cases, regimes often leave room for negotiation or international pressure.
Congo’s decision, however, sets a dangerous precedent. It suggests that leaders can use capital punishment as a tool in elite rivalries. This raises urgent questions: Can Tshisekedi’s government realistically carry out an execution against a former head of state with deep networks within the army, security services, and tribal militias?
A Powder Keg in the East
Eastern DR Congo is already a volatile region. The M23 rebels control key cities like Goma and Bukavu, as well as strategic airports. Kabila retains strong support from militias in South Kivu, his home province, and elements within the Congolese military who once served under him.
Sentencing him to death is not just symbolic—it risks triggering violent mobilization. If Kabila aligns with M23 and other militia groups, Kinshasa could face an outright civil war. In March, M23 welcomed Kabila to their “liberated zones,” an image that is deeply incendiary.
For Tshisekedi, the hope may be that isolating Kabila legally will delegitimize him politically. But in a highly militarized landscape, it is more likely to embolden Kabila’s allies to escalate their fight. As the saying goes, a cornered rat can still bite the cat. And Kabila is no mere rat—he is a powerful figure with extensive influence.
Why the Rogue Turn?
Why has Tshisekedi chosen this path? Several factors come into play. First, the DRC’s violent history. The reigns of Mobutu Sese Seko and Laurent Kabila ended violently, one fleeing to exile and the other shot dead in office. But it is what happened before them that left the country in disarray.
In 1960, Colonel Joseph-Désiré Mobutu staged a coup that ousted Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba. Lumumba was later executed by firing squad in Katanga, with Belgian officers and Congolese collaborators involved. This history of political violence underscores the current crisis.
Tshisekedi faces mounting criticism for his inability to contain the eastern rebellion and accusations of ceding too much control of Congo’s mineral wealth to foreign powers. By putting Kabila on trial, he shifts blame for the crisis and reframes the conflict as orchestrated by his predecessor.
Branding Kabila as a traitor also prevents him from becoming a political alternative or rallying figure in future contests. Meanwhile, Rwanda, accused of backing M23, remains Tshisekedi’s chief adversary. By linking Kabila to M23, Kinshasa strengthens its narrative in international forums: Congo is under attack by Rwanda with the complicity of a disgraced ex-leader.
But in pursuing these goals, Kinshasa has veered into dangerous territory. Courts appear weaponized, due process undermined, and political competition criminalized. This risks projecting a “rogue state” image, where power struggles override national stability.
Could Kabila Really Be Executed?
Practically speaking, executing Kabila would be near impossible. He is not in government custody but in rebel-held territory where Kinshasa lacks control. Any attempt to seize him could trigger large-scale fighting. Moreover, the international community is unlikely to tolerate such an act. The death penalty is already controversial; executing a former head of state in a fragile democracy would spark global condemnation, sanctions, and likely isolation of Kinshasa.
Yet even without actual enforcement, the ruling carries weight. It signals to Kabila’s supporters that the political arena is closed, leaving rebellion or secession as the only options. And it signals to other Congolese elites that loyalty to Tshisekedi is the only path to survival.
The stakes could not be higher. Eastern Congo already resembles a semi-autonomous zone under M23, with its own governance structures. The central government’s writ barely extends beyond Kinshasa. In this fragile landscape, turning political rivals into enemies of the state risks tipping the balance.
Joseph Kabila may never be executed. But the mere act of sentencing him to death could spark a spiral of retaliation, militarization, and fragmentation. The move represents not strength but desperation—an admission that Kinshasa cannot manage dissent within democratic norms.
In going rogue, Tshisekedi may have overplayed his hand. For Congo’s long-suffering population, the danger is that this gamble could once again sacrifice peace on the altar of power.
