There is a saying in French: Le ridicule ne tue pas—"Ridicule does not kill." But maybe it should.

If it did, the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DR Congo) would have long ago been laid to rest, not by war or famine, but by the sheer weight of its own absurdity.

The international community, of course, plays its part, not as a responsible guardian, but as an indulgent enabler that keeps feeding this monstrosity while lamenting its destruction.

The DR Congo is that spoiled child who sets the house on fire, watches it burn, and then screams at the neighbors for not bringing water fast enough.

It is the only place where state-sponsored chaos is rewarded with sympathy, where the government actively creates crises to blackmail the world, and where the guilty walk free while the innocent is blamed.

The world is not just watching the DR Congo destroy itself—it is actively holding the match and fanning the flames.

Diplomatic pyromania

On January 28, 2025, the world witnessed a breathtaking spectacle of state-sanctioned lawlessness in Kinshasa.

As the United Nations Security Council convened in New York for an emergency meeting on the crisis in eastern Congo—following the fall of Goma—several hours before, Kinshasa erupted in orchestrated violence.

The embassies of France, Kenya, Rwanda, the USA, and Uganda were attacked, looted, or torched.

Congolese security forces, instead of upholding international law, stood by and watched as the diplomatic missions were desecrated.

But if the attacks themselves were a show of barbarity, what followed was political clowning at its finest.

The Congolese Deputy Minister of the Interior, Eugénie Tshiela Kamba, delivered what can only be described as a parody of a press briefing. Without a shred of shame, she declared:

"It was Rwandan infiltrators who attacked, among others, the embassies of France and Uganda. The Congolese protested as usual in a peaceful manner. Congratulations to our police for their swift response to the infiltrators."

This, of course, came as no surprise to those familiar with Kinshasa’s favorite national sport: blaming Rwanda for everything from failed governance to a power outage at the presidential palace.

But just when one thought it could not get any more ridiculous, the DRC’s Foreign Minister, Therese Kaikwamba Wagner, speaking live from New York, issued a barely veiled threat to the UN Security Council:

"If this council fails (to sanction Rwanda), the streets will take over. The streets have neither order nor restraint."

It was a moment of extraordinary self-incrimination.

In essence, Kinshasa's foreign minister admitted that the so-called "spontaneous" demonstrations were, in fact, state-orchestrated blackmail.

The violence against diplomatic missions was not an unfortunate reaction to the fall of Goma—it was a premeditated message to the international community: "Give us what we want, or chaos will reign."

Thuggery in a suit: How Kinshasa plays the world

One does not have to be an expert in diplomacy to recognize that what happened in Kinshasa was a gross violation of international law.

Attacks on embassies are an assault on the very foundation of diplomatic relations.

If such an incident had happened in any other country, the world would have responded with outrage, sanctions, and possibly military consequences.

But this is the DR Congo—where political absurdity is tolerated like a misbehaving toddler throwing a tantrum in a supermarket.

Kinshasa’s ability to manipulate global opinion is not new.

For years, the DR Congo has presented itself as a helpless victim of foreign aggression, while actively nurturing violence, racism, and genocidal ideology within its borders.

It is a government that openly collaborates with the Forces Démocratiques de Libération du Rwanda (FDLR)—a genocidal militia composed of remnants of the perpetrators of the Genocide Against the Tutsi in 1994.

It hosts hate rallies, spreads ethnic incitement, and then cries foul when confronted.

Kaikwamba Wagner, one of the key figures in DRC’s diplomatic theater, embodies this contradiction perfectly.

On one hand, she plays the role of a respectable diplomat; on the other, she is the architect of a system that embraces lawlessness.

But even within the DR Congo’s governing elite, she should be considered the "serious enemy of the system"—because in moments of desperation, she blurts out truths that expose the entire charade.

Her warning to the UN was not just a threat; it was an accidental confession of the state’s role in engineering chaos.

The art of creating a crime and covering it up

The DRC government has perfected a simple but effective formula:

Firstly, stage an atrocity – Whether it's violence against Tutsis or Hema, the looting of embassies, or fake anti-Rwanda protests, the goal is to create chaos that diverts attention from the regime’s failures.

Secondly, blame Rwanda – No evidence needed. Just accuse Rwanda of being behind everything. The world, always eager to avoid confronting Kinshasa’s real problems, will nod in agreement.

Thirdly, play the victim – Once the crime is committed and the scapegoat assigned, Kinshasa pleads for international intervention—always in its favor, of course.

Lastly, wait for the world to move on – Since it’s the DRC, the international community shrugs, treating every atrocity as just another passing storm.

This cycle repeats itself endlessly. The fall of Goma was a disaster of Kinshasa’s own making—its refusal to negotiate with M23 rebels, its reliance on foreign mercenaries, and its mismanagement of the military all led to the city's loss.

But rather than facing reality, the government reacted as it always does: by creating a crisis to drown out its failures.

International Law in the trash bin

The attacks on diplomatic missions in Kinshasa were a direct violation of the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations (1961), which guarantees the protection of embassies and foreign diplomats.

Any country that fails to protect diplomatic missions is in breach of international law.

Yet, instead of condemnation, the DRC will likely get another round of international sympathy, another "urgent call for dialogue," and maybe even more aid money.

If any other country had engaged in such brazen violations, it would have faced crippling sanctions.

But because it is the DRC—where absurdity is excused as dysfunction—there will be no consequences. After all, le ridicule ne tue pas.

A Spoiled Child That Never Grows Up—With Deadly Consequences

Imagine a child who smashes windows, blames the neighbor, and then demands ice cream as compensation.

Now picture that child growing into an adult, but instead of petty mischief, he burns down embassies, harbors genocidal militias, and threatens the United Nations with mob rule.

The DR Congo has perfected the art of diplomatic delinquency, knowing full well that the world will sigh, shake its head, and write another cheque.

The Vienna Convention? Merely an old piece of paper. International law? A suggestion, not a rule—at least for Kinshasa.

But let’s be clear: the world is not merely a passive enabler of the DRC’s descent into absurdity. It is an active accomplice.

Every ignored violation, every unchallenged lie, and every undeserved aid package makes the next atrocity inevitable.

The same diplomats who nod solemnly about "protecting human rights" will, in a few months, be back in Kinshasa, grinning in photo-ops with the same officials who orchestrated embassy attacks.

They will shake hands, issue statements about "engagement," and pretend that rewarding thuggery with diplomatic legitimacy isn’t a recipe for more chaos.

And when the next crime occurs—when the next round of violence erupts, when the next embassy burns—these same actors will feign surprise, furrow their brows, and return to the same cycle of cowardice.

The international community treats the DR Congo like a spoiled child, but in doing so, it has created a monster.

One that burns, loots, and kills without consequence. One that knows no shame, no responsibility, and no limits.

And as long as this tolerance continues, Kinshasa will keep proving one thing: le ridicule ne tue pas—but impunity certainly does.

The world does not simply allow the DR Congo to destroy itself—it actively enables its self-destruction and maintaining insecurity to neighbors.

By refusing to hold Kinshasa accountable, by accepting its lies, by funding its incompetence, the international community plays the role of the smiling undertaker at a slow funeral.

The DRC is not a victim of external aggression—it is a victim of its own leaders, its own institutions, and the world’s refusal to let it face reality.

If Kinshasa were ever forced to stand on its own, if the world cut off its lifeline of aid and indulgence, perhaps it would finally be forced to grow up.

But as long as the world keeps treating it like a child too fragile for discipline, the DRC will keep burning, keep blaming, and keep blackmailing.

And the world, with all its pretensions of diplomacy and justice, will keep handing it the matches.