Three decades after Rwanda’s genocide, the past is ever-present

EVERY YEAR on April 7th Paul Kagame, Rwanda’s president, commemorates the start of the most abominable event of the late 20th century, the Rwandan genocide. Over 100 days in 1994 masses of the majority Hutu population slaughtered hundreds of thousands of their countrymen, mostly from the minority Tutsi group. In these annual speeches Mr Kagame offers glimpses of why he is Africa’s most polarising leader. In one breath there is the official narrative: Rwanda is now a miracle of peace, unity and prosperity—a beacon of progress lit from the embers of the genocide. In the next there are hints of the more sinister figure his critics decry, for instance in his disdain for those who challenge him. They also point out his brutal repression and his warmongering in neighbouring Congo.

Ahead of the 30th anniversary of the genocide some observers in Kigali, the capital, hope that Mr Kagame will use the event to move beyond the question of whether Rwanda is Africa’s Singapore or Africa’s North Korea. About two-thirds of Rwanda’s population are under 30. Some diplomats and businessmen wonder whether the 66-year-old president, who has, in effect, run the country since 1994, might speak of the next 30 years, loosen the grip of his authoritarian state and even suggest when he might plan to step aside.