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Review: The Struggle for Liberation: A History of the Rwandan Civil War, 1990-1994

Kegel, John Burton. The Struggle for Liberation: A History of the Rwandan Civil War, 1990-1994, (Ohio University Press, 2025) ISBN: 978-0-8214-2627-2 (Link).

In 2019, I sat at Kigali Heights sipping a Mutzig (a local beer) with Lt General (Rtd) Caesar Kayizari. While we initially met when he was still Chief of the Army, within the Rwanda Defence Forces (RDF), it was during his retirement that he sparked an interesting question: how did Rwanda’s Genocide, known as the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, actually end? General Kayizari was one of the commanders of a combined mobile force (CMF), specifically Alpha CMF, which liberated large swaths of Kigali. Since his retirement, General Kayizari showed me different areas of Kigali and explained the military battles and rescue operations that took place there in 1994. By 2022, it sparked an idea that eventually led to my own research project on the subject. However, General Kayizari mentioned that someone else had already begun the research: John Burton Kegel.

Kegel’s relationship with General Kayizari served as a metaphorical ‘green flag’ for the authenticity of his research. Academia faces significant challenges, stemming from internal divisions, in understanding and critically engaging with Rwanda. As I wrote in a past article, the divide over whether to praise or condemn Rwanda, specifically its government under President Paul Kagame and the Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF), is evident in nearly every piece of published material. In the past, some academics privately advised me that, to succeed in academia, one must find oneself on the ‘right’ side of this academic divide. This divide impacts researchers’ fieldwork, especially early-career researchers’, with many Rwandans commenting that they often feel Western researchers arrive in Rwanda with their conclusions already determined. However, Kegel does not fall into this trap as he seeks to understand and describe how the Rwandan Patriotic Army (RPA), the military wing of the RPF, won the Rwandan Civil War[1].


Kegel’s book, The Struggle for Liberation: A History of the Rwandan Civil War, 1990-1994, examines a relatively unexplored but vital period of Rwandan history. Akin to Gerard Prunier’s The Rwanda Crisis, Kegel’s book is a holistic examination of Rwanda and how conditions led to the formation of the RPF, which remains in power. However, Kegel presents an interesting historical parallel to Rwanda’s early post-colonial years with the 1990s Civil War. He argues that Rwanda experienced two significant periods of civil war. The second is the better-known Rwandan Civil War (1990-1994), but the first period is more interesting.

The original civil war began during the Social (Hutu) Revolution and lasted until the mid-1960s, ultimately leading to the defeat of the Union Nationale Rwandaise (UNAR) rebel forces from Burundi. Often, descriptions of the late colonial period focus on political divisions and the consolidation of Hutu ideology. Kegel’s description of the period is most convincing in sparking a new debate within Rwanda studies: should the period around Independence be considered part of a civil war, given that it encompassed many of the elements necessary to qualify as one? Within Rwanda, the Genocide against the Tutsi often receives its initial date during the Social (Hutu) Revolution rather than simply 1994. The reason stems from a modified understanding of Gregory H. Stanton’s description of a genocide’s lifeline.

An added note: there appears to be a rise in Rwandan historical books that attempt to rehabilitate the regimes of Gregoire Kayibanda (1962-1973) and Juvénal Habyarimana (1973-1994). Perhaps it is a tactic in a strategic campaign to try to discredit the RPF by disrupting their (and historical) narratives of the social and economic problems during those periods. However, it could be a genuine exploration of Rwandan history. Kegel never falls for this trap, as he provides a factually accurate account of Rwanda’s history prior to 1994.

Fundamentally, Kegel examines how history has shaped the RPF and Rwanda. However, we begin to encounter a blessing and a problem with the book’s research. The Struggle for Liberation utilises French, Dutch, British, American, and Belgian diplomatic records and cables, drawing on them in ways that go beyond any existing texts on Rwanda. The book describes and illustrates not only historical events but also how those serving at foreign embassies in Rwanda described the nation’s events. The only other person, I believe, who has done this type of research is Linda Melvern.

However, we encounter my first issue with the book: a lack of interview data. Kegel’s sources rely on diplomatic cables, existing information, and the interviews of a handful of people, all RPF. Those mentioned as the primary source of the interview data are Lt General (Rtd) Ceasar Kayizari, General James Kabarebe, Senator (Rtd) Tito Rutaremara and Christine Umutoni. While I hold the utmost respect (and friendship) with these people, there needed to be more voices, including those from the former Rwandan Armed Forces (FAR). When the existing interview data is properly utilised, it elevates the description and overall storytelling of Rwandan history. However, the book needed more of their voices.

This is where Kegel and my book differ. While he provides a more holistic examination of the RPF and Rwandan history, mine focuses more on the Campaign against Genocide War. It extensively utilises interview data from those who fought during the war, including RPA and ex-FAR members, to depict the various tactics, operations (humanitarian and military), and strategies of both sides. My book positions itself as a detailed exploration of Kegel’s Chapter 11, titled “The Campaign Against Genocide”. However, I do fully acknowledge the difficulties it would be for Kegel (or nearly any researcher) to gain the access I received while researching the topic. Nevertheless, I write this critique not to criticise the book, but rather to suggest how it could be elevated through greater use of interview data.

Another critique is what I previously hinted at, the Campaign against Genocide War chapter. This chapter describes the events starting with the assassination of Habyarimana until the RPF liberated Gisenyi, effectively ending the Genocide against the Tutsi. Unfortunately, the chapter reads as rushed compared to other chapters. Additionally, it lacks details of the RPA’s strategy compared to the ex-FAR, operational decision-making, humanitarian missions, the relationship between battles and tactics, and so on. All of these topics are mentioned and discussed, but only briefly. The reason I mention this issue is that many Rwandans are most interested in learning about this aspect of their history. Many want to understand not just the history of the RPF/RPA, but also how those forces liberated their home, village, town or city. 

There are other minor critiques I have of the book, such as its portrayal of the ex-FAR. The limitations of the research methods are evident here as well. Kegel discusses some of the internal controversies among its officers, in part due to the diplomatic cables. However, it largely does not address the complex relationship within the FAR. For instance, the divide between Northern and Southern Hutus (something current Minister of Defence Juvenal Marizamunda experienced); perceptions of the Arusha Accords or even how to categorise the RPF (Commissioner General of Rwanda Correctional Service Brigadier General Evariste Murenzi, who fought for the FAR, remembers being told in October 1990 that he was not fighting ‘Tutsis’, Mwami supporters or foreign invaders. Rather, his commander said they were fighting fellow Rwandans who were refugees.) These divisions are important as they greatly influenced decision-making during the Genocide by those within the military, and why some refused to participate in the massacres.

Rather than condemning these missing elements, it may be worth suggesting that our two books be read together. Where Kegel shines is where my own research could be strengthened and vice versa. That realisation is what makes this book even more enjoyable. Its level of historical detail will hopefully lead to new debates and research on how the RPA ended the Genocide against the Tutsi. One of its greatest contributions is how it should lead to new critical questions about Rwanda for us to understand better not only its history but how it exists today as it continues to rebuild and recover from the great horror of the Genocide.

Despite my minor critiques, I believe this book will be one of the great texts on Rwanda in the years to come. Akin to the previously mentioned Prunier’s The Rwanda Crisis, Kegel’s book will serve as a textbook for understanding Rwandan history. I highly recommend it, and then suggest either visiting my site or reading my book on the Campaign against Genocide War.

[1] Civil War is a general term to describe the Liberation War (1990-1993) and the Campaign against Genocide War (1994).

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When did the Genocide against the Tutsi end?

Every July 4th, Rwanda commemorates the end of the Campaign against Genocide War in Kigali. It was on this date in 1994 that the Rwanda Patriotic Army (RPA) gained control over Rwanda’s capital after the retreating Rwandan Armed Forces (FAR) fled. But the final weeks of the war in Kigali witnessed the FAR and genocidaires, such as the Interahamwe, lose much of their control to the RPA. Nevertheless, it was the late evening of July 3rd when the remaining forces at Camp Kimihurura, Camp Kacyiru, and Mt Kigali fled the city, going north. While Lt General (Rtd) Charles Kayonga, commander of Bravo CMF at the time, along with 7th CMF, followed the retreating soldiers, fighting continued.

During much of the Campaign War, most of the RPA’s forces and resources focused on Kigali. While the genocide regime, created shortly after the death of former Rwandan President Juvenal Habyarimana, based itself in Gitarama (April 16th) rather than Kigali, the city still held significant political, economic, and military importance. Within military studies, the city was the centre of gravity for the war. Additionally, during much of the fighting, many Rwandan Tutsis and non-extremist Hutus hid at locations such as St Andres, Amahoro Stadium, St. Paul, St Familie, and other places, waiting to be rescued.

Outside of Kigali, several RPA’s CMF fought throughout the hilly nation, such as the 101 (under Lt General (Rtd) Charles Muhire); 157th (under General (Rtd) Fred Ibingira); 7th (under Colonel William Bagire) and Charlie CMF (under Colonel Thadee Gashumba). However, these CMF focused on different areas with the 157th fighting across much of the east, south, and west of the nation. This is not to minimise the contribution of the other units. For instance, Charlie CMF focused its fighting in the Musanze region. Without Lt General (Rtd) Charles Muhire’s 101 CMF, much of southern Rwanda would not have been militarily secured. The mobile force even played a significant role in the capture of Gitarama on June 13th. The 7th CMF played a significant role in capturing the eastern neighbourhoods of Kigali, which aided in the capture of Camp Kanombe in late May.

As I argue in my recent book, The Strategy to End the Genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda: Understanding the War in Kigali, the RPA’s central strategy was to end the Genocide against the Tutsi. To reach this strategic end, the RPA conducted military and humanitarian operations through various tactical methods. Stopping the genocide’s wrath was so important that the RPA at times risked military objectives in order to save Rwandans. Every force involved in ending the genocide received clear orders from its commander-in-chief, current Rwandan President Paul Kagame, to focus on saving lives even at the expense of military targets. For those mobile forces in Kigali, this was difficult in the urban setting. Those fighting outside Kigali did not have an easier time reaching this objective. Whenever I travel around Rwanda, I make it a point to reach out to former soldiers of the 157th CMF. I often express to them how I am in disbelief that they have liberated such a large and hilly environment in such a short time.

But there has always been a question I have asked myself, or others have asked me. When did the Genocide against the Tutsis really end? While many within the Rwandan government publicly stick to the July 4th date, other critical dates should be considered.

When Gisenyi fell on July 18th:

    After the FAR fled Kigali during the evening of July 3rd and early 4th, many used the Kigali-Musanze route to escape. The RPA allowed the accessibility of the passageway for the retreating soldiers. This might lead to some serious questions about RPA military strategy. After all, why grant these forces the ability to flee? However, it becomes clear when studying the RPA’s military tactics, operations, strategy, and other relevant aspects. President Kagame had at times created ‘humanitarian zones’ for civilians loyal to the genocide regime to escape the upcoming battles. (This contrasted with the FAR, which would often leave weapons behind for Interahamwe to continue their genocidal killings or kill any remaining Tutsi during the RPA’s approach.) For instance, before the battle for Camp Kanombe, President Kagame ordered Lt Col. (Rtd) Jacob Tumwine to establish a corridor just south of Kanombe for any forces or civilians to escape the upcoming battle.

    This falls in line with the encirclement tactics employed by the RPA, which focused more on creating confusion, decreasing enemy morale, and forcing them to flee (often leaving military equipment behind). This was the perfect response to what Minister of Defence Brigadier General Juvenal Marizamunda classified as ‘defensive military tactics’ that originated from the FAR’s close relationship with French forces. Whenever the FAR retreated, they rarely counterattacked but instead established newer, but weaker, defensive positions. During each retreat, the FAR’s morale declined, the RPA collected abandoned weapons, and planned a new strike. Thus, allowing the retreating FAR to use this corridor should be seen within the constructs of the RPA’s tactics and overall strategy.

    The retreating FAR, which travelled north, would eventually be pushed into eastern Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) by July 18th. The following day, a new government designed by a modified version of the Arusha Accords was sworn in. However, the RPA did not have control over all of Rwanda. Many fleeing FAR travelled southwest by the end of the war, which was under Opération Turquoise. Nevertheless, July 18th is another date that could be considered as the end of the Genocide against the Tutsi.

    End of Opération Turquoise on August 21st:

    After the arrival of Alpha CMF under Major General (Rtd) Samuel Kaka to the Rwandan Parliament on April 12th, uniting with Lt General (Rtd) Charles Kayonga’s 3rd Battalion (better known as ‘The 600’), the FAR had little chance of winning the war. While they would continue fighting, thus allowing the Interahamwe time to murder Tutsis and non-extremist Hutus, the FAR never had the organisational structure, military expertise, morale, or clear strategic goals. Many took the opportunity to either participate in the genocidal killings or to profit from the chaos. This is not universal, as those such as Minister Juvenal Marizamunda, Major General (Rtd) Albert Murasira, and Brigadier General Evariste Murenzi, among others, served the FAR and/or fought the RPA but did not participate in the genocidal killings. Thus, their integration into the new Rwandan military after the war was possible despite them joining at different times and through very different circumstances.

    Minister Juvenal Marizamunda was one of the FAR members who had travelled to the zone under Opération Turquoise during the waning months of the Genocide. He had spent much of the war in France for military training, but returned to find his family. Opération Turquoise provided him the ability to reconnect with family who resided in southwestern Rwanda. Unlike Minister Marizamunda, who did not participate in any genocidal killings, many within the FAR took the opportunity to continue waging their genocidal war against the Rwandan Tutsis.

    By June 19th, France, which held close relations with the former Habyarimana regime, announced the creation of a multilateral force consisting of roughly 2500 French, Senegalese, and other fighters. Under French control, with UN Security Council approval, these forces created a zone in southwestern Rwanda, occupying nearly a fourth of the country. On the surface, this zone would be for those seeking peace away from the violence. The reality indicated a somewhat different objective with accusations of French support for the retreating FAR. During the days following the announcement of Opération Turquoise, the territory still held by the FAR and the genocide regime was celebrated. Akin to earlier on in the Liberation War (1990-1993), French forces aided the struggling FAR to push back the RPA. However, the FAR quickly realised these French forces were not there to fight the RPA.

    Nevertheless, the RPA command was quickly prepared, through the 157th CMF, to fight these new forces. As General (Rtd) James Kabarebe commented during a 2023 conversation, the RPA began constructing military defensive bases to prepare for a new war. Thankfully, that never materialised. By August 21st, Opération Turquoise ended with many of the FAR and actors within the genocide regime able to cross into Bukavu, Zaire. Some question, such as Prunier, whether Opération Turquoise was France’s attempt to save their faltering allies.

    Why consider August 21st as the end of the Genocide against the Tutsi? One of the controversial outcomes of Opération Turquoise was how it both saved and killed Rwandan Tutsis. While Bisesero is perhaps the best-known example of killings in this region, many testimonies exist of those who became victims thanks to the French forces. Many Rwandans who were in hiding since the beginning of the genocide began to leave their hideouts once they saw the foreign troops. Some believed they were either part of the United Nations Assistance Mission in Rwanda (UNAMIR) or another peacekeeping force. Thus, they believed the massacres were over. However, the French forces often did not disarm the Interahamwe and allowed them to still carry out their massacres. Rwandans who had spent the last few months in hiding were now an open target.

    By August 21st, the French forces left, and the RPF immediately took the region. Thus, the last genocidal killings in Rwanda that continued during Opération Turquoise were now over.

    First Congo War:

    While conducting my PhD research on Rwandan foreign policy, I had the opportunity to meet Rwanda’s former military historian.[1] He said something rather interesting to me about the First Congo War (1996-1997). From August 1994 until October 1996, the former FAR, Interahamwe, and genocide regime restructured in eastern Zaire. Akin to Hamas’ use of Gaza civilians, the refugee camps were a way to be protected from responsibility; use international attention to the plight of the refugees as a political tool, and require aid agencies to pay taxes to the government-in-exile for access to the civilians. While using the cover of nearly two million Rwandan refugees, they conducted raids into Rwanda, often being bloody. These near-constant attacks led to the inevitable decision to invade eastern Zaire to remove the refugee camps. Despite criticisms by human rights organisations, former US ambassador to Rwanda Robert Gribbin called the refugees’ return to Rwanda orderly with little violence.

    By December 1996, most of the refugee camps were dismantled. Many refugees returned to Rwanda with those from the FAR, Interahamwe, and genocide regime facing a choice: fight, flee deeper into the jungles, or return to Rwanda. Those such as Minister Juvenal Marizamunda decided to return home and join the new military, which later became the Rwanda Defence Force (RDF). However, many fled deeper into the jungles, leading most to their deaths. Those who survived continued to fight against Rwanda, in a significantly diminished capacity, created the Army for the Liberation of Rwanda (ALiR) and later the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR). Nevertheless, the dismantlement of the refugee camps resulted in a significant reduction in attacks against Rwanda by former genocide forces. The war continued until May 1996 with the overthrow of President Joseph Mobutu’s regime and the installation of Laurent Kabila as President. However, violence recommenced shortly afterwards.

    Did it ever?

    In 2013, while working at the National Commission for the Fight against Genocide (CNLG), now part of the Ministry of National Unity & Civic Engagement (MINUBUMWE), one could not escape Gregory Stanton’s description of the stages of genocide. Within his description of genocide are the expected categories, such as (in order): classification, symbolization, dehumanization, organization, objectification, preparation, extermination, and denial. This last element is key to the question of when the Genocide against the Tutsi ended.

    While any of the dates above can be considered as the end of the massacres, within Rwanda, the perception by many is that the genocide continues, but in a different form. Actors, mainly in the Global North, hijack ‘human rights’ or ‘democracy’ language as a cover to promote their genocidal ideology. Some forms of genocide ideology consist of outright denying the genocide, or trivializing the suffering, reducing numbers, or blaming the RPA. Many, such as in the FDLR, still proclaim their desire to return to Rwanda to finish the genocide. There are numerous elements within this category that Rwandan foreign policy addresses. There have been acts of terrorism and physical attacks by actors still holding the genocide’s ideology, such as Paul Rusesabagina’s Party of Democracy in Rwanda – Ihumure (PDR-Ihumure), responsible for killing nine Rwandans back in 2018. However, the primary threat that genocide denial and the ideology at its core pose is the ontological insecurity it produces, as it threatens Rwanda’s socially constructed norm of Ndi Umunyarwanda.

    Thus, some within Rwanda believe the Genocide against the Tutsi never ended, as there are actors who either want Rwanda to return to the genocidal massacres or deny what occurred in 1994.

    Conclusion:

    So, when did the Genocide against the Tutsi end? The July 4th date is the most well-known day, despite it commemorating more of a military victory in Kigali. Is July 18th the final day, as that is when the RPA captured the last major FAR-controlled territory? If this is the answer, then how does one account for those still dying in southwest Rwanda under Opération Turquoise? Fundamentally, the genocidal massacres continued in other parts of the country until they were under the RPA’s control. This does not ignore how some still died even after the RPA took a specific territory. The retreating FAR would often leave behind military equipment to Interahamwe, instructing them to wear civilian clothing and wait until the bulk of RPA forces left an area before returning to killing Tutsis. This led to RPA ‘clean-up’ operations to uncover and stop the Interahamwe. However, some human rights organisations mistook these operations as directed towards civilians rather than active genocidaires wearing civilian clothing. Did the dismantlement of the refugee camps during the initial months of the First Congo War end the genocide? The majority of surviving FAR, Interahamwe, and genocide regime after 1994 used these camps to launch attacks against Rwandans. The international community failed to disarm the camps until Rwandan forces did so in 1996. Lastly, did the genocide ever really end, as its ideology and denial still can be found today?

    Unfortunately, I do not have an answer to this question. While I often point to August 21st as the end of the physical genocide, its pain continues to this day. Whether in the form of denial or revisionism, the ideology that killed roughly a million Rwandan Tutsis and non-extremist Hutus remains today.

    [1] To keep focus on this article’s central question, when the Genocide against the Tutsis ended, I am avoiding diving into his situation.

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    Review: Modern Rwanda: A Political History

    Filip Reyntjens. Modern Rwanda: A Political History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2024. $30.99. Paper. ISBN: 9781009284486.

    Rwanda is perhaps best known for its experiences during the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi, more commonly known as the Rwandan Genocide. Since the end of the genocide, researchers flocked to the small African nation to better understand what led to the massacres and how the society rebuilt itself. The level of success to which Rwanda rebuilds itself since the genocide is hotly debated. Reyntjens is perhaps one of the most known scholars and critics of Rwanda. Despite not visiting Rwanda since October 1994, he continues to write on Rwanda’s politics and human rights. His new book somewhat differs from much of his current research, focusing mostly on Rwanda’s pre-colonial and colonial history.

    The book is divided into seven chapters, excluding the Introduction and Conclusion. After the Introduction, the book’s first chapter examines the pre-colonial history of Rwanda. Reyntjens illustrates the complexities of this period of Rwandan history, which is mainly unexplored compared to the genocide but heavily debated within Rwandan studies. The current Rwandan government often describes this period as relatively tranquil, with no Tutsi, Hutu and Twa divisions. However, this chapter problematises this perception to indicate how not only did these ethnic divisions exist but also how the pre-colonial Rwandan state was not as united and uniform as described. The following two chapters explain how Germany and Belgium influenced and engaged with colonial Rwanda. The fourth chapter describes the final years of colonisation with the rise of the Hutu Revolution and independence. Despite somewhat minimising the human suffering during this period for Rwanda’s Tutsis, the chapter exceeds in clearly categorising the political turmoil and actors of the late 1950s and early 1960s.

    The final three chapters examine Rwanda’s political history since independence. The First (1962-1973) and Second (1973-1994) Republics are described in terms of historical narratives that do not focus on explaining the genocide. Rather, chapter five provides a purer form of political-historical analysis to understand that historical period rather than how it led to the genocide. Chapter six briefly examines the Rwandan Civil War and the genocide. The final chapter, before the book’s conclusion, contains Reyntjens’ harsh critiques of Rwanda since the genocide. His attention is not on describing the complexities of governance under the Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF) as he did with ruling elites in the previous chapters. Instead, his focus is to repeat previously published claims of how the ruling RPF conducts human rights violations both inside and outside Rwanda. In all of the book’s chapters, his seventh chapter on Rwanda’s post-genocide governance feels the most disconnected from the rest as it lacks the same nuance as in previous chapters.

    While there is no doubt this book will be used as a major source on Rwandan politics, it does contain some issues that need to be at least mentioned. The majority of this book is unique in providing a relatively straightforward description of early Rwandan history, both before and during colonisation. However, many of its citations stem from somewhat older sources, with only a few exceptions, such as Jan Vansina’s 2004 book Antecedents to Modern Rwanda[1]. There is also an underlying problem in how Reyntjens seems to downplay the suffering that occurred during and after the Hutu Revolution against Rwandan Tutsis and others who did not align with the Hutu ideological movement during much of the country’s independence and up until the genocide. It reads as a setup to later try to criticise the RPF’s governance by establishing a narrative of how things are worse now in Rwanda than decades ago.

    His criticisms of present-day Rwanda read more like an overview of other research, as his lack of fieldwork experience severely limited the practical realities of the complex nature of Rwandan politics within the nation. Fundamentally, one can only write so much insight into the current political dynamics while writing from Europe. The book’s methodology is the first topic covered in the Introduction, but it never addresses the issues found in Chapter Seven, which is either an incomplete or problematic illustration of Rwanda today as it relies solely upon observations from afar rather than proper fieldwork.

    One of the primary claims made against Reyntjens by Rwandans is his involvement in the 1978 constitution. This constitution legitimised former Rwandan President Juvenal Habyarimana’s grip on power by establishing a one-party state along with the discriminatory quota system against Rwandan Tutsis. Supporters of the RPF often cite Reyntjens’ involvement in drafting the constitution with little supporting evidence. While reading the fifth chapter he does not address this accusation by writing, “space forbids a detailed analysis of the constitution” (page 114). This is despite him being a legal and constitutional specialist. However, in the following chapter, on page 146, he has space to write a subsection on the number of genocide victims. While this might seem a minor issue, it illustrates a missed opportunity for Reyntjens to refute some of the significant and damning claims made against him. It was an overlooked opportunity to provide a new element within his vast work on Rwanda.

    Reyntjens’ new book on Rwanda’s political history will undoubtedly be a much-used text in criticising Rwanda’s government and perception of the nation’s history. The book’s greatest strength is its clarity in describing the complex issues and history of Rwanda’s pre-colonial and colonial history. Its description of the political dynamics between former President Grégoire Kayibanda and Dominique Mbonyumutwa is unique in terms of clarity. However, the examination of modern Rwandan politics faces the issues found in his other publications, a lack of actual observational data collected from conducting proper fieldwork.

    [1] Jan Vansina, Antecedents to Modern Rwanda: The Nyiginya Kingdom, Madison: University of Wisconsin, 2004.