When Major General Sylvain Ekenge, spokesperson of the Armed Forces of the Democratic Republic of Congo (FARDC), appeared on the national broadcaster RTNC on 27 December 2025, nothing about the setting suggested improvisation, confusion, or misjudgment. This was a “communication spéciale”, announced days earlier, calculated to capture maximum national attention. The Congolese public was invited, in advance, to listen attentively to the voice of the army. RTNC is a state broadcaster. It is financed, regulated, and politically aligned with the government. Its purpose is not entertainment but authority. When the spokesperson of the national army speaks on RTNC, he does so not as a private citizen, not as an analyst, but as the institutional mouthpiece of state power. What unfolded was therefore not an opinion of a private citizen. It was not a debate. It was instructional speech, delivered calmly, without challenge, without interruption, and without corrective framing. Maj. Gen. Ekenge stated publicly: “You must be very careful when you marry a Tutsi woman... she can act with perfidy by bringing her cousin into the household to have children with him instead of her husband... and she will convince you that the Tutsi race is superior... Ubwenge... They are capable of anything...” Every clause in this statement matters. Every word carries historical weight. This statement: Identifies Tutsi women as a collective, not individuals. He attributes to them sexual deception, biological conspiracy, and racial ideology. Presents these accusations as known facts, not allegations. The General ends with the sweeping assertion: “They are capable of anything.” In the vocabulary of mass violence, this is not merely hate speech. It is preparatory dehumanization. He was mobilizing animosity. It removes moral boundaries by suggesting limitless criminality inherent in a group. International criminal law recognizes this language. So does history. Kangura as FARDC’s template In Kinshasa, the infamous Kangura is not History —it is a model to follow. Anyone who has read Kangura does not pick up Ekenge’s speech as first-hand. One hears it as revival. In May 1992, Kangura No. 36 published the following warning to Tutsis: “The war, which you waged, yourself will have serious consequences on you yourselves and the Hutus you conquered. Go to hell with them or to Abyssinia, we will not be bothered with them.” This was already an exterminatory language. It framed violence as destiny and expulsion as solution. In November the same year, Leon Mugesera expounded what Kangura said six months earlier. Tutsi would be sent to Abyssinia through rivers. The same issue then addressed Hutu men married to Tutsi women: “Let those who have Tutsi women divorce them while it's still time; otherwise, you will face an adverse fate because of these women which you are keeping—whom you are keeping.” The message was clear: Tutsi women are a threat inside the home. In July 1993, Kangura No. 46 expanded the conspiracy narrative: “No one can forget how the Tutsis falsified their identities so as to occupy positions reserved for Hutus within the context of ethnic balance with the executive, in parliament, at the level of the judiciary, embassies, as senior civil servants of the state...” Then came the passage that reflects Ekenge almost word for word: “In the meantime, Tutsi women got married to Hutus but were careful not to have children with their Hutu husbands and whenever there were children from such union, the children became very committed in this struggle so as to give back power to the Tutsis. It is because of this infiltration of Tutsis within the society that the country no longer has secrets and it is easily invaded...” This is not speechmaking. It is a creed: Marriage is seen as infiltration. Tutsi women are biological weapons; whereas reproduction is political warfare. The similarity between Kangura and RTNC is not thematic. It is doctrinal. Corresponding accusations. Same obsessions and manias. Identical gendered paranoia. Same construction of women as instruments of collective annihilation. The only differences are time, geography, accent and medium of communication. Hassan Ngeze in Rwanda, 1992–1993. Maj. Gen. Sylvestre Ekenge in the DRC, December 2025. Hassan Ngeze disseminated this doctrine through print. Maj. Gen. Ekenge disseminated it through state television. The medium evolved. The crime did not. Gendered incitement is central Genocidal ideology does not begin with soldiers. It begins with targeting women—because women are perceived as the carriers of continuity: bloodlines, culture, memory, and future generations. Targeting women is never accidental in genocidal propaganda. It is strategic. Ekenge’s words do exactly that. They declare an entire category of women untrustworthy by birth. They invite surveillance of marriages. They legitimize suspicion as patriotism. They turn private life into a playhouse of ethnic warfare. By portraying Tutsi women as sexually perfidious or unreliable; racially manipulative and reproductively dangerous—Ekenge’s venomous speech performs several simultaneous functions: One, it legitimizes suspicion in intimate spaces — the home, the marriage, the bedroom. Two, the rhetoric prepares sexual violence by framing Tutsi women as deceivers deserving control above average. Three, it breaks families by turning spouses into potential if not perpetual enemies. And lastly, it racializes reproduction, making children objects of terror. Ekenge’s speech attacks: family cohesion, social trust, bodily autonomy, and the right to exist without collective suspicion. This kind of incitement prepares multiple crimes at once: ostracism, expulsion, sexual violence, forced separation, and eventually physical destruction. This is why Ekenge’s words are so dangerous. They do not merely insult. They recode social relations. International criminal law has long recognized this pattern. The ICTR did not merely prosecute killings; it prosecuted speech that prepared minds, especially when delivered by authority figures. International jurisprudence—from the ICTR to contemporary gender-crime doctrine—has established that gendered ethnic propaganda is an early cautionary sign of genocide, not a side effect. Silence as authorization In the hours and days that followed, many reasonable observers expected an immediate response from President Félix Tshisekedi, the Commander-in-Chief of the FARDC. At a minimum, arrest and prosecution. A clear repudiation from the highest office. Instead, there was silence. In international law and political reality, silence from the Commander-in-Chief after such a broadcast is not neutral. It is interpretive. It signals tolerance, approval, or strategic endorsement. When the army spokesman speaks on national radio and television and the head of state says nothing, the message to the ranks is clear: this speech is within bounds. Impliedly, Ekenge said what his supreme commander could not—or did not need to—say himself. President Tshisekedi's silence is political rather than procedural. Ekenge did not whisper. He was live on television with confidence. The President did not miss the meaning of the vitriol. He allowed it. This silence from the supreme commander communicates: First, to Congolese soldiers and government supported militias, that such thinking is not just tolerated but accepted. Second, to ordinary citizens, that protection is selective. To victims, the message is, they are alone. In a country with a long history of ethnic massacres, this silence is not benign. It is governance by abdication. It signals that persecution may proceed without accountability. Normalizing the unthinkable Perhaps the most chilling aspect of this episode is how ordinary it was treated. Where was the emergency framing? Where were the front-page warnings? Where was the historical context? International media largely treated the speech as just another “controversial remark” in an already “complex” conflict. This is how genocidal language is laundered—through normalisation. When incitement is reported without urgency, it teaches audiences that such speech is routine. It strips it of its cautionary function. It trains indifference. The media silence is not neutral. It is preparatory. There came diplomatic condemnation without consequence. On December 28, Belgian Foreign Minister Maxime Prévot wrote on X: “Extremely shocked by the remarks made today by the spokesperson of the Congolese army, General Ekenge, targeting the Tutsi community. This is absolutely unworthy coming from an official representative. I condemn them in the strongest possible terms. Any hate speech must be rejected under all circumstances. National cohesion can only be built in a spirit of inclusion of all communities.” Prévot’s words, though appearing strong, demand nothing substantial. No call for Tshisekedi’s intervention, no demand for prosecution, no appeal to international law. Belgium, whose colonial policies shaped the ethnicized hierarchies of the Great Lakes, demonstrates moral abdication in the face of live incitement. Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International, and other human rights actors remain limited to retrospective documentation, incapable or unwilling to act against live, broadcast incitement. They document graves expertly. But when incitement is live, unmistakable, and broadcast nationally, they often fall silent. The question must be asked: is incitement only worth condemning once it has succeeded? This pattern is not negligence; it is a structural failure of the international human rights system, which privileges safe reporting over immediate intervention, diplomatic caution over protection of life. They write reports after the fact. They enjoy the comfort of delay. UN Security Council and others on notice The international system—the UN Security Council, ICC, AU, SADC, EAC—is on notice. The pattern is historically familiar: words preceding atrocity are ignored, normalized, or treated as routine politics. Silence is policy by default. Failure to act now is historical and legal negligence. The UN Security Council was created to prevent exactly this trajectory. Its members know the language. They have litigated it. They have archived it. Silence now will not be mistaken for ignorance. It will be recorded as dereliction. The international system has been warned, once again, by history: words that come before massacres are not abstract; they are signals. What occurred on 27 December 2025 was not an accident. Neither was it an error of judgment or a cultural misunderstanding. The broadcast will not be misunderstood by history. It will be classified correctly. Ekenge was not reckless; he was precise. President Tshisekedi was not uninformed; he was silent. The international response was not insufficient by accident; it was calibrated to avoid discomfort. The world recognized this language in Rwanda before 1994 and did nothing. It now hears it again, nearly word for word, and pretends it is new. Silence, once more, is not ignorance. It is a choice. It was a threatening speech, issued clearly, publicly, and with institutional authority. FARDC spokesperson spoke a language that history has already translated. It is the language that pave the way for exclusion, rape, massacre, and extermination. It is the language that teaches ordinary people to see neighbors as enemies and women as weapons. President Félix Tshisekedi’s silence transformed that speech into state-tolerated ideology. Leadership is not only what is said; it is what is allowed to stand. Silence is complicity. Silence validates the threat. Silence prepares society for the worst. The international response followed a familiar script: shock without consequence, condemnation without demand, silence without shame. Belgium protected its alliance. Human rights organizations delayed. Media normalized. The UN waited. Each institution performed its role with bureaucratic precision—a theatre of moral safety while human lives hang in balance. This pattern is not sad because it is unknown. It is sad because it is chosen. Genocide does not arrive unannounced. It sends advance notices, in speeches, in broadcasts, in silences. On December 27, 2025, such a notice was delivered to over 120 million people. Humanity cannot claim ignorance. The words are recorded. The precedents are documented. The consequences are known. The choice is now before every institution, every state, every observer: act to prevent, or do nothing and be complicit. Silence, once again, is not absence. It is a policy. It is authorization. And the world will one day be judged for the decisions it makes today. Unlearned lessons The echoes of Rwanda 1992–1994 are scary. Print media then, broadcast today; local targets then, national and international audience today; doctrine then, doctrine today. The amplification effect is immense. In 1992–1994, the world failed to heed clear threatening signs, and over one million lives were lost. Today, millions of Congolese, particularly women and children in Tutsi communities, face psychological terror, social fragmentation, and potential physical violence, precisely because the international and domestic responses remain muted. Ekenge’s broadcast can be dissected phrase by phrase: “marry a Tutsi woman” – identifies a group; “perfidiously bringing her cousin” – constructs sexualized betrayal; “convince you the race is superior” – racializes ideology— “Ubwenge... they are capable of anything” – absolves potential criminality of perpetrators and prefigures justification for violence. This is classic incitement to hatred with gendered and ethnic dimensions. Media normalization reduces public scrutiny. Belgium and other states issue ceremonial statements without consequence. Human rights organizations delay. The UN fails to mobilize. Each inaction is not passive; it is a choice to ignore the mechanisms of mass violence. To allow such rhetoric to stand unchallenged is to permit history to repeat itself. The global community must intervene with urgency: Immediate investigation and prosecution under Congolese law and international law. Public repudiation by the DRC President to reverse state-sanctioned ideology. Media responsibility to contextualize, explain, and warn the population. International pressure from UNSC, ICC, and African regional bodies to prevent escalation. Support for Tutsi women and families targeted by this doctrine, including protection and psychosocial intervention. Words are not neutral. Silence is not innocent. Hate broadcast on state media with tacit approval is a precursor to catastrophe. History has documented this pattern: Kangura to RTNC, Rwanda to DRC. Humanity cannot afford ignorance or delay. The warning has been delivered. The choice remains: intervene decisively, or be complicit in the consequences. This is a call for preventive justice, a lesson for media, governments, and human rights institutions, and a moral imperative for all who value human life. Ekenge’s speech is not only offensive; it is a template for atrocity, a live demonstration of the mechanics of genocidal ideology, and a test of collective responsibility. Silence, delay, or half-measures will be remembered by history as complicity. Immediate action is required—not for diplomacy, but for the protection of humanity.
