What next after defecting from FDLR? Reintegration, truth, and the unlearning of a sacred lie
Sunday, January 25, 2026
Some members of the FDLR genocidal group captured by M23 during a handover event in Rubavu District on Saturday, March 1, 2025. Photo by Germain Nsanzimana.

For more than two decades, the Government of Rwanda has undertaken a challenging but purposeful task of turning former combatants into fully integrated citizens. To date, more than 13,000 former FDLR fighters have returned home and reintegrated into society.

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The most recent group, Intake 76, is currently undergoing a three-month reintegration programme at Mutobo Demobilization Centre—an intensive process designed not only to impart skills, but to undo years of fear, falsehoods, and ideological captivity.

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The results are visible. Since 2001, former FDLR fighters have found their place across every sector of Rwandan life. Some have joined Rwanda Defence Force and now defend the very country they were once taught to destroy. Others are farmers, teachers, lawyers, businesspeople, and entrepreneurs. In Rwanda’s experience, reintegration is not a slogan; it is a lived reality.

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Yet a pressing question remains: what happens after defecting from FDLR, especially when the movement was never merely military, but deeply ideological and religious?

Thirty-one years after the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, the Kinshasa-backed FDLR remains rooted in genocide ideology.

Formed by former FAR soldiers and Interahamwe militias responsible for the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, the group was structured around three pillars: political, military, and religious. This third pillar is often overlooked, yet it has been central to the group’s endurance.

Religion within FDLR was not about faith; it was about control. It sanctified violence, justified suffering, and transformed criminal enterprise into what fighters were told was a divine mission.

Last week, I attended a seminar that brought together former FDLR combatants discharged in October 2025 and leaders of the Rwanda Demobilization and Reintegration Commission (RDRC). The objective was to assess how ex-combatants are applying the skills acquired at Mutobo, how they are using the start-up capital they received, the opportunities available to them in local government and the reserve force, their paths toward social development, and the challenges they continue to face.

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Such evaluations take place for every intake three months after discharge. They are a crucial moment, particularly for those who spent decades in the jungles of eastern DR Congo—and even more so for the younger ones who have known no other life.

Intake 75 is dominated by young people, including minors under 18. Many were born in the jungle to FDLR parents and joined the group as child soldiers. From their earliest memories, they were taught to hate and kill the Tutsi wherever they might be found and were promised a return to Rwanda only after defeating an imagined enemy. For them, reintegration is not a return; it is the beginning of an entirely new life.

The religious pillar: A theology of war

Former combatants describe how the religious pillar functioned as a powerful instrument of indoctrination. Fighters were told they were waging a holy war. When families attempted to convince their relatives to return to Rwanda, FDLR leaders intensified religious manipulation. Combatants were promised, in the name of God, free houses and land in a future Rwanda. These promises, presented as prophecy, continue to trap some members in the expectation of an illusory fulfillment.

For many, the three months at Mutobo feel almost miraculous precisely because they dismantle this illusion.

Born in the forests, forcibly recruited, and raised on hatred and deprivation, young ex-combatants from Intake 75 now openly acknowledge the deception they endured. They speak of years of servitude and of a distorted faith used to justify violence, exploitation, and looting. Reintegration marks a decisive rupture: hatred is no longer destiny, and ignorance is no longer inevitable.

I spoke with former FDLR Major Anastase Makuza, who defected in 2020. A former non-commissioned officer before 1994, trained at Bigogwe in 1990, he later served in ALiR and FDLR and was deeply embedded in the system.

According to Makuza, so-called divine messages were crafted by military and political leaders and then passed to a prayer group tasked with presenting them as revelations from God. Selected combatants memorized these messages and recited them publicly during gatherings, claiming they came directly from heaven.

This orchestrated faith convinced fighters that they were engaged in a sacred mission. Belief in divine backing helps explain how they endured extreme conditions: constant combat, hunger, lack of education for children, and the absence of healthcare.

Religion was also used to dispossess them. Marriage and alcohol were prohibited as sins capable of cancelling God’s promise. Personal property was discouraged. Minerals, livestock, and goods looted from Congolese civilians never belonged to the fighters; everything was confiscated and forwarded to commanders.

When military operations failed, leaders did not acknowledge strategic mistakes. Instead, they accused combatants of violating religious rules.

Defeat was framed as punishment for sin. Fighters were then subjected to a full week of prayers and repentance, after which a new message—again presented as divine—announced forgiveness and authorized preparation for another attack.

Each intake leaves Mutobo holding a national identity card. This simple document carries profound meaning: it affirms their right to citizenship, equal to that of any other Rwandan. It replaces the false promise of a distant, violent return with the tangible reality of belonging here and now.

The reintegration of former FDLR combatants is not without challenges.

Trauma does not disappear in three months, and ideology does not dissolve overnight. Yet Rwanda’s approach confronts the problem directly, combining security with truth, dignity, and opportunity.

What comes next after defecting from FDLR is neither revenge nor perpetual suspicion.

It is the demanding process of unlearning hatred, dismantling a theology of war, and rebuilding lives anchored in citizenship rather than illusion.