In the past few days, in the vast halls of diplomacy, an esteemed Foreign Minister from the Democratic Republic of Congo (DR Congo) embarked on a critical mission. It was not to address her country’s rampant corruption, its crumbling infrastructure, or the catastrophic violence consuming its eastern provinces. No, Thérèse Kayikwamba Wagner had far more pressing matters: she needed an urgent audience with Arsenal Football Club leadership. Yes, the Gunners, according to a British liberal paper, that notorious rogue faction in global affairs, had allegedly committed the ultimate diplomatic sin—they did not leap at the Minister’s command. It was an “outrageous insult,” we are told. Arsenal had refused to meet the great emissary of the DR Congo, failing to recognise the sacred hierarchy of international relations, where football clubs apparently answer to the beck and call of foreign ministers. This was not just a negligible brush-off; this was akin to an act of war. The London Guardian of February 15, 2025— in its boundless journalistic wisdom, took up the cause, lamenting the indiscipline of these footballing rebels who dared ignore their true overseers in Kinshasa. But wait—why exactly should a football club be accountable to a foreign government it has no dealings with? Arsenal has a sponsorship deal with the Visit Rwanda brand, not the DR Congo. If anything, the only logical reason for Wagner’s theatrics is a crude attempt at weaponizing football sponsorships as part of Kinshasa’s broader anti-Rwanda propaganda war. That, and perhaps the irresistible scent of easy bribe money from foreign interests eager to pressure Rwanda economically. If this were merely a matter of the DRC trying to score cheap political points, it would be amusing. But the Guardian’s willing participation in this charade exposes a far deeper issue—the persistent tendency of Western media to act as mouthpieces for corrupt regimes when it suits their agenda. Instead of investigating DR Congo’s well-documented human rights abuses, its complicity with genocidal militias, its tolerance of warlords who massacre civilians and even engage in cannibalism, the Guardian has chosen to focus on...a football sponsorship? This is not journalism. This is a paid-for smear campaign dressed up as investigative reporting. And it stinks. Football as the Guardian’s fantasy diplomacy Mark Townsend appears to have confused Arsenal’s boardroom with a political department in the DR Congo’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. In his world, Arsenal executives should have sprung to attention the moment Wagner requested a meeting, perhaps saluting as they lined up for her briefing on geopolitical affairs. When she asked them to jump, they were supposed to respond, “How high, Your Excellency?”—not, “Why jump?” But let’s set reality straight: Arsenal is a football club. It is not a UN Security Council member, nor does it have any role in dictating African geopolitics. Arsenal has a commercial agreement with Visit Rwanda, just as many other European clubs and institutions have similar deals with nations across the world. Bayern Munich, Paris Saint-Germain, and even Formula One have all engaged with Rwanda’s tourism board. Yet, somehow, Arsenal’s relationship with Rwanda has now been reframed as a moral crime. But who is leading the moral charge here? The Congolese government, a regime infamous for corruption, state-sponsored militias, and a complete inability to govern its own territory. Yes, say it again, a country that has more armed groups than tourist sites. The Guardian conveniently ignores the hypocrisy of a state that, while accusing Rwanda of destabilizing the region, continues to support the FDLR, a genocidal militia responsible for massacres against Congolese civilians. Selective outrage: The Guardian’s moral bravado If the Guardian were interested in journalism rather than propaganda, it might have considered a few essential questions before amplifying Wagner’s grievances: First: Why is a Congolese minister focusing on Arsenal instead of addressing DR Congo’s own internal failures? Congo is ranked among the most corrupt countries in the world. Its army, the FARDC, openly collaborates with genocidal militias. Wagner’s government is drowning in dysfunction. But none of this makes it into the Guardian’s moral calculus. Second: Why is Rwanda’s alleged support for M23 treated as an unquestionable fact, while Congo’s open support for the genocidal FDLR is ignored? The article parrots allegations from a deeply contested UN report, despite Rwanda’s reliable denials. Meanwhile, Congo’s proven military alliances with genocidal forces barely warrant a mention. Thirdly: Why does the Guardian accept the DR Congo’s moral authority at face value? If the Guardian is so concerned about morality in business dealings, will it investigate which entities have financed DR Congo’s warlords, including through backdoor deals with international corporations? Lastly: Why should Arsenal be expected to answer to the Congolese government at all? Arsenal has a sponsorship deal with Rwanda, not with the DRC. If Wagner wants to discuss sponsorship ethics, perhaps she should start with the corporations that buy minerals from armed groups in Congo, fueling the very war she claims to condemn. Arsenal’s silence: The only rational response The Guardian and Wagner appear baffled by Arsenal’s refusal to engage. But what exactly was the club supposed to do? Were they expected to sit down with Wagner and accept her political lectures? Maybe they should have torn up their legally binding contract with Rwanda on the spot, in submissiveness to Congo’s whims? Arsenal—as gunners, quite sensibly, did nothing. They ignored the noise, as they should have. They are a football club, not a geopolitical pawn in Kinshasa’s blame game. And here’s a piece of advice to Bayern Munich and Paris Saint-Germain: follow Arsenal’s example. Your clubs are not diplomatic envoys for corrupt regimes. If you allow yourselves to be dragged into the DR Congo’s political games, you are not only endorsing a kleptocratic government but also enabling a state that tolerates barbaric crimes, including documented cases of cannibalism among its armed groups. A foul-smelling hypocrisy One cannot help but notice the convenient timing of this entire charade. Wagner’s media stunt coincides with increased European political pressure on Rwanda. It follows a concerted campaign to demonize Rwanda, with reports designed to isolate the country diplomatically and economically. The Guardian, ever the willing accomplice, plays its part by framing a commercial sports sponsorship as a “bloodstained” alliance. Yet, if we’re talking about bloodstained deals, where is the Guardian’s investigation into American, Canadian, Chinese South African and Western corporations profiting off DR Congo’s mineral wealth? Where is the scrutiny of multinational companies extracting coltan and cobalt, key minerals in global electronics, often with direct links to child labour and militia financing? The DR Congo’s government is not an innocent victim in this story. It has actively fueled conflicts, armed rebels, and allowed corruption to flourish at every level. But none of this makes it into the Guardian’s righteous fury. Instead, the target is a football club and a tourism sponsorship. The absurdity is staggering. Arsenal, PSG, Bayern—stand your ground Arsenal has done absolutely nothing wrong, except refuse to be dragged into the DRC’s self-inflicted crisis. If Bayern Munich and PSG have any integrity, they too should refuse to be bullied by a government that has no credibility. They owe no explanation to Wagner, no apology to the Congolese government, and certainly no deference to the Guardian’s manufactured outrage. Meanwhile, perhaps Mark Townsend and his editors should reflect on the principles of journalism they have so openly discarded in favor of propaganda. If the DR Congo is so enthusiastic to champion justice, let them start by asking real questions about the root causes of conflict in the country. That would be far more productive than wasting ink on whether a football club should take orders from Kinshasa’s foreign ministry. But of course, that would require genuine journalism. And that, it seems, is in short supply at the Guardian.
