Congo: The tail still wags the dog as Rwanda and Uganda pull the strings in the eastern conflict over lucrative minerals

The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) has long been at the crossroads of regional power plays and global supply chains. A vast, resource-rich country of around 115 million people, it has endured decades of conflict that are inseparable from questions of governance, influence from neighboring states, and the global demand for minerals. The eastern regions, in particular, have been locked in near-constant warfare, with tensions intensifying as powerful actors leverage both local militias and national political dynamics to control strategic terrain and mineral wealth. The trajectory of these events reveals a troubling pattern: political leaders in Kinshasa, insurgent groups in the east, and external patrons in neighboring countries have become entangled in a cycle of manipulation, violence, and economic extraction that keeps the conflict alive while the ordinary people pay the price. This is the backdrop against which unfolding developments around the M23 and the broader Congo River Alliance, known as the AFC, are playing out. The story is not simply about rebels or presidents; it is about how a region’s geology, geopolitics, and governance failures converge to determine the fate of more than a hundred million Congolese citizens.

The Context: Geography, Population, and the War Economy

The Democratic Republic of Congo stands apart in sub-Saharan Africa not only for its size but for the scale of its mineral endowment, which has made the country a focal point of regional and international interest for decades. The eastern portion of the nation is particularly rich in scarce minerals essential to modern electronics and energy transitions: gold, copper, cobalt, tin, and, most critically, coltan. Coltan—an ore that contains tantalum and niobium—is indispensable for capacitors and several essential components in smartphones and other devices. At various points in history, DR Congo has been estimated to control a dominant share of the world’s supply, with the eastern provinces accounting for a significant portion of output. This concentration of wealth, however, has not translated into prosperity for the Congolese people. Instead, it has become a magnet for predation, with large segments of the mineral wealth captured by a combination of criminal networks, corrupt state actors, and foreign patrons that profit from the opacity and weakness of governance.

Governance in Kinshasa has long faced acute challenges. The central government is geographically distant from the eastern resource-rich zones, creating a governance vacuum that is vulnerable to capture by local actors who can operate with a level of impunity, aided by corruption within the security apparatus and the political settlement of patronage networks. The disparity between the government’s formal authority and the realities on the ground in conflict zones is stark: official military and police structures may exist on paper, but a substantial portion of their capacity has degraded into tools of extraction and intimidation. The systemic looting of mineral wealth—often through illicit artisanal mining operations that later feed into formal supply chains—has become a defining feature of the conflict economy. It is a pattern that has sustained violence for decades by creating continuous incentives for continued fighting: more control over mineral-rich areas means more resources to fund armed actors, more leverage to demand concessions, and more pressure on the state to maintain a fragile status quo.

The political landscape in Kinshasa has been characterized by periods of authoritarian restraint, followed by bouts of electoral theater, and sporadic openings that failed to translate into durable reform. The country’s electoral processes have historically been fraught with irregularities, undermining public confidence and providing space for external actors to question the legitimacy of the government or to present themselves as alternative patrons who could restore order or advance their own strategic interests. In this context, the eastern dossier—the M23 insurgency, the broader AFC coalition, and the ever-present possibility of renewed intervention by neighboring powers—looms large over regional stability. The question of who controls the eastern provinces is more than a military question: it is a question about sovereignty, the distribution of profits from mineral wealth, and the balance of power within a region that has historically been vulnerable to external manipulation.

A central element in this narrative is the complex relationship between Kinshasa and its neighbors, particularly Rwanda and Uganda. The presence of Tutsi militias in the eastern DRC and the broader regional orchestration of armed groups have created a security dynamic in which external actors can influence outcomes in Kinshasa by supporting or pressuring various Congolese factions. This is not a simple case of one country backing a proxy force in another. Rather, it reflects a history in which the interests of a regional leadership class—who have themselves emerged from violent upheavals or cold war-era power struggles—collide with the needs and hopes of Congolese civilians who seek peace, dignity, and the opportunity to participate in their country’s political life.

The stakes extend beyond national borders. The resource economy of the eastern DRC has implications for global supply chains, particularly in the electronics and energy sectors that rely on minerals sourced from the region. The balance between securing a stable flow of minerals to international markets and ensuring that such extraction does not come at the cost of human rights and regional stability is a difficult one. International observers have long argued that sustainable peace in the DRC requires a combination of transparent governance, credible security reforms, and mechanisms to ensure that mineral wealth is used to support development rather than entrench violence and corruption. While the international community has offered aid, sanctions, and diplomatic pressure at various times, the region’s volatile mix of domestic politics, rebel entrepreneurship, and cross-border meddling has repeatedly thwarted lasting progress.

As this narrative unfolds, the eastern DRC remains a flashpoint with consequences that stretch far beyond its borders. The wars and power struggles there are not merely local phenomena; they are manifestations of broader systemic dynamics—how the state negotiates its sovereignty, how the region manages competition for resources, and how external patrons shape outcomes through support for militias, political factions, or diplomatic leverage. The following sections will delve deeper into the key actors, alliances, and strategic calculations that continue to drive the conflict and to challenge prospects for peace in this most resource-rich corner of Africa.

The East’s Profit Motive: Minerals, Power, and the War Economy

At the heart of the eastern DRC conflict is a powerful, enduring incentive structure rooted in mineral wealth. The region’s geology has created an economic geography in which control over mining sites translates into leverage over both local communities and national politics. The mineral wealth is not merely an economic asset; it is a strategic instrument that can fund, sustain, and scale armed movements, while also attracting external sponsors whose own geopolitical calculations depend on maintaining influence in the region. In this framework, the coltan market stands out as especially significant given its role in modern electronics and the global supply chains that depend on it. The presence of vast coltan deposits has drawn intense interest from various actors who recognize that controlling mining operations can yield substantial profit and strategic advantage. It also means the region remains disproportionately vulnerable to predatory extraction practices that bypass formal governance channels, enabling illicit trade, smuggling, and bribery to flourish.

The systemic weakness of the Congolese state—the inability of Kinshasa to project effective administrative and security authority into the eastern provinces—facilitates the predation that sustains violence. Where state institutions falter, criminal networks can step in to fill the vacuum. This includes not only illegal mining and smuggling networks but also the capacity to mobilize and coordinate militias, sometimes with the tacit or explicit backing of foreign patrons who seek to influence the balance of power in the region. In this context, the state’s inability or unwillingness to reform governance mechanisms—from customs and taxation to police and court systems—exacerbates the temptation for powerful actors to exploit resources, traffic illicit goods, and profit from instability. The result is a persistent cycle: instability begets more exploitation, which in turn funds further conflict, creating a self-sustaining system that is difficult to interrupt without comprehensive reforms and robust international engagement.

The eastern frontier has thus become a theater in which economics and geopolitics interact in ways that are often opaque to outsiders. For example, the revenue extracted from mining operations can be funneled into the coffers of local warlords, militias, or political elites who maintain loyalty through patronage networks, providing salaries, weapons, and resources to their supporters. This dynamic reinforces both the military capabilities of armed groups and the political resilience of their backers. It also complicates efforts to demobilize or reintegrate combatants, because the incentives to remain armed are closely tied to the economic rents they control. International actors who wish to promote peace must contend with this complex nexus between resource control and political power, seeking strategies that can disarm, dislodge, or transform the incentives that sustain the conflict economy.

A further layer of complexity arises from the cross-border dimension of the conflict. Neighboring states—most notably Rwanda and Uganda—have long pursued interests in the eastern DRC, including the protection of their own security concerns, access to mineral wealth, and the broader strategic goal of shaping Congo’s political trajectory. Militia networks in the DRC have been strengthened, and sometimes legitimized, by external patrons who see in these groups a plausible means to counterbalance rivals or to project influence within Kinshasa. The result is a regional security architecture in which what happens in the eastern DRC is never merely a domestic affair. Instead, it is a matter of regional stability, with implications for trade routes, cross-border movement, and the flow of goods that underpin both local livelihoods and international markets. This regional dimension intensifies the complexity of achieving sustainable peace, because it requires not only governance reforms within the DRC but also credible, durable commitments from neighboring governments to manage their own security interests and to align incentives toward peaceful political competition rather than enduring proxies and destabilizing interventions.

In summary, the eastern DRC’s conflict geometry is driven by a powerful collision between mineral wealth and weak governance, amplified by cross-border power dynamics and the strategic calculations of external actors. The M23 and the Congo River Alliance (AFC) should be understood not merely as isolated rebel movements but as components of a broader system in which control over resources, political legitimacy, and military capacity are all tightly interwoven. This is the war economy in practice: factions accumulate resources, recruit and resupply through illicit channels, and exercise influence by exploiting the opacity of governance structures. The consequences of this system are borne by civilians who live in constant insecurity, who face displacement, and who bear the brunt of the environmental and social costs of mining and conflict. The following sections will explore the key players involved in these dynamics, including the M23, AFC affiliates, and the actors who have shaped Kinshasa’s political landscape over the past few decades.

The Eastern Congolese Landscape: Militia Networks, Tutsis, and Patronage

The eastern borderlands of the DRC host a mosaic of communities, rent by conflict but bound by shared histories, economic needs, and the promise—and peril—of mineral wealth. The region’s armed movements are not monolithic; they are made up of a variety of actors, many of them drawn from Congolese communities, with leadership that sometimes travels across borders and through shifting alliances. Among these movements, a prominent player has been the M23, a militia that has asserted significant control over parts of the eastern DRC and has sought to extend its reach into neighboring territories. The M23’s leadership emerged within a broader pattern of Congolese Tutsis who have maintained a presence in the eastern provinces for decades, often collaborating with or benefiting from cross-border support that originates from Rwanda, Uganda, and other regional interlocutors who have long sought to influence Congo’s political trajectory. The M23’s capacity to seize and hold territory has made it a focal point in discussions about regional security, governance, and the future of the Congolese state.

In the broader coalition known as the Congo River Alliance (AFC), these factions are linked through a shared objective—what they describe as regaining political power in the DRC, though the means differ and the motives are contested. The AFC represents a network of actors that, while not uniformly identical in ideology or method, share a common interest in shaping the political landscape to their advantage. The coordination among AFC members, many of whom are Congolese Tutsis or allied groups, underscores the degree to which ethnic and regional identities can intersect with strategic calculations about control of mineral resources and political leverage. Their operations have included coordinated offensives, defense of strategic towns, and efforts to exert influence over adjacent territories through a combination of military pressure and political negotiation. The net effect is a security environment in which armed groups are able to project power beyond fleeting raids into sustained campaigns aimed at controlling territory and, by extension, the lucrative mining sites that lie within those zones.

One of the tensions in this landscape is the multiplicity of actors and the fact that some participants may not fully realize the extent to which they are being used by others with longer-term agendas. Ramazani Shadary, a former Congolese security official and politician who aligned with President Joseph Kabila, publicly acknowledged a political objective tied to the AFC—statement captured in a moment of rhetoric that underscored a broader truth: some local actors describe their aim as democratic restoration, while others interpret their actions as part of a broader, less transparent struggle for power. The critical point for observers is not simply whether a movement seeks power but how it justifies its means, what alliances it cultivates, and how it legitimizes its legitimacy to the Congolese population it claims to represent. The reality on the ground is that these actors operate in a dense environment where military campaigns intersect with political maneuvering, and where control of mining sites serves as a potent leverage tool.

The human dimension of this dynamic cannot be overstated. Civilians in the eastern DRC experience the consequences of armed contestation in the form of displacement, disruption of livelihoods, and exposure to violence. Artisanal mining, often the only viable income for many families, becomes a driver of risk as people navigate the competing claims of armed groups and the formal authorities tasked with maintaining order. The military campaigns associated with the M23 and allied AFC factions contribute to a fragile security environment that complicates humanitarian access, disrupts education and healthcare services, and places a heavy burden on local communities who must adapt to cycles of capture and liberation, depending on the ebb and flow of military operations. In this sense, the Eastern Congo conflict’s impact is multi-dimensional: it affects not just the strategic calculus of regional powers but also the daily lives, safety, and futures of those who call these frontiers home.

As the narrative unfolds, it becomes clear that the M23 and AFC not only reflect the complexities of regional geopolitics but also embody a broader structural question: can the Congolese state, with the right mix of reforms, accountability, and credible security, reassert its authority in the face of entrenched economic incentives and external actors who have learned to exploit the ambiguity surrounding governance? The path to peaceful cohabitation in the eastern DRC requires more than military engagement; it demands transparent governance, credible security reform, and durable commitments from regional partners to align incentives toward peace rather than prolonged contestation. The remainder of this examination turns to the historical arc that brought these dynamics to their current form—the rise and persistence of the Kabila era, its aftermath, and the evolving relationship between Kinshasa and its eastern neighbors.

The Kabila Era: From Revolutionary Facilitation to Political Redemption—and Back Again

The late 1990s carved a decisive chapter in Congolese history that reshaped the country’s political landscape for years to come. In 1997, amid a tumultuous power vacuum and a regional realignment of alliances, a figure emerged from a distant corner of Africa who would become a central node in the continent’s geopolitical chessboard. Laurent-Désiré Kabila—a former revolutionary who had achieved notoriety across the region—was installed as the president of the Democratic Republic of Congo after a campaign backed by neighboring powers seeking to alter Congolese political trajectories. The transformation was striking: a man who had once lived in exile and who had built his political capital in a struggle for power was suddenly placed at the helm of a state whose legitimacy was continually contested, both domestically and internationally. His ascent symbolized a broader trend in which external actors leveraged Congolese political actors to implement strategic changes that aligned with broader regional objectives. The involvement of Rwanda and Uganda in supporting the Kabila-led uprising reflected a pattern in which neighboring states pursued influence not through direct occupation alone but through the mobilization of Congolese actors who could be shaped into reliable partners in governance and security arrangements.

Kabila’s tenure, however, would prove to be as contentious as his ascent. He forged a government that was marked by both coercive authority and strategic alliances with powerful patrons who could supply resources, legitimacy, and military capability. Yet his rule was not durable in its early forms. The political center never fully consolidated authority in Kinshasa, and tensions with regional players—especially those who had played a role in his rise—gradually intensified. In 2001, Kabila’s tenure was abruptly terminated by assassination, a blow that precipitated another shift in the nation’s political balance and opened space for a new generation of leaders to assume the mantle of power. The succession did not simply replicate the preceding era’s dynamics; it introduced a new set of ambiguities, as questions about legitimacy, succession, and the role of external patrons continued to shape the DRC’s political trajectory.

Ten days after the elder Kabila’s death, his son Joseph was propelled into the presidency at the age of 29. The transition to his leadership, while controversial, laid the foundation for a different kind of political equilibrium. Joseph Kabila’s presidency would be characterized by a mix of authoritarian tendencies, careful political maneuvering, and a reformist rhetoric that promised to move the country toward greater democratic legitimacy. Elections in 2006 and 2011 offered a veneer of democratic process and legitimacy, but the regime was widely criticized for repression, corruption, and limited political liberalization. Under his leadership, the Congolese state attempted to manage competing pressures—from advocacy groups calling for genuine electoral reforms to international partners pressing for credible governance and a more predictable security policy. The period also saw the emergence of a more complex set of relationships with foreign allies, including a renewed alignment with certain figures and patrons who had supported the Kabila ascent in the 1990s.

As the 2010s unfolded, Joseph Kabila’s grip on power began to waver, culminating in a 2018 transition anchored in constitutional mandates and domestic pressure for a peaceful handover. The end of his presidency did not signal a decisive break with the past; rather, it exposed the enduring questions about governance, legitimacy, and the role of external patrons in Congolese politics. The revival of old connections with regional powers—particularly with individuals like President Kagame of Rwanda and President Museveni of Uganda—illustrated that the post-Kabila era would be defined not by a clean break with the past but by a reconfiguration of power within a familiar regional framework. The sense that Kinshasa’s political leadership remained vulnerable to external influence has persisted, reinforcing the perception that the Congolese state is contending with more than domestic political rivals: it must contend with a geopolitical environment in which regional patrons seek strategic outcomes that extend beyond the DRC’s borders.

This historical arc is essential to understanding the present-day dynamics around the M23 and AFC. If the Kabila era demonstrated the potential to shape a Congolese state through a combination of external backing and domestic political strategy, the post-Kabila period exposed the fragility of that arrangement. The return to power-sharing arrangements, contested elections, and continued reliance on external players to secure political outcomes all underscore a broader reality: governance in the DRC cannot be divorced from the regional security architecture in which neighboring states have long played a decisive role. The revival of ties with Kagame and Museveni in the later years signals a reconstituted bloc that seeks to influence Kinshasa’s leadership and, by extension, the balance of power in the eastern DRC. The M23’s operational success, its capacity to control territory, and its strategic use of cross-border support reveal the practical implications of this historical layering: history does not merely inform the present; it actively shapes the choices available to the actors who compete for power and resources in the DRC today.

The Kabila legacy—its mix of coercive governance, controlled political openings, and fluctuating alliances—continues to color contemporary analyses of Congolese politics. It helps explain why, even as Kinshasa pursues formal avenues of reform and international cooperation, a constellation of actors outside the central government still exerts influence over outcomes in the east. The regional dimension remains indispensable to any realistic assessment of what might advance or impede peace in the DRC. Without addressing the underlying incentives created by mineral wealth, patronage networks, and cross-border alliances, political changes within Kinshasa risk being undermined by external actors who perceive that the price of stability is to allow or even encourage certain disruptors to act in ways that favor their broader strategic interests.

The ensuing sections will examine in more detail the M23’s emergence as a major force in the region, the AFC’s broader framework, and the ongoing tug-of-war over who controls the DRC’s valuable mineral precincts, with all of the political and humanitarian consequences that flow from these contests. A critical thread running through these developments is the question of democratic legitimacy: to what extent can Congolese citizens participate in a genuine political process when the same segments of power—both domestic and foreign—continue to shape outcomes through opaque or coercive means? The answer to this question will influence how the international community builds any future strategy for peace, reconstruction, and sustainable development in one of Africa’s most consequential theaters of power.

The Players and the Problem: Kagame, Museveni, and the Kinshasa Counterpoint

The regional power dynamics surrounding the DRC have always been entangled with the trajectories of two prominent leaders in neighboring states: Paul Kagame of Rwanda and Yoweri Museveni of Uganda. Their influence in the eastern DRC has taken multiple forms—from political alignments and security arrangements to the active provisioning of military support to Congolese factions that align with their strategic objectives. These relationships have been described in various sources as functional alliances intended to shape the political future of the DRC in ways that would favor regional security calculations, economic interests, and the preservation of stability within their own borders. The argument put forward by those who emphasize these regional links is that the eastern DRC’s violence cannot be fully resolved without acknowledging the role of external patrons who have repeatedly sought to influence who governs Kinshasa and who controls the mining districts along the border.

Within this framework, the M23 emerges as a central actor. It has managed to seize and maintain control over territories in the eastern provinces, leveraging a combination of battlefield successes and external support to sustain its operations. The Alabama-like networks that feed into the M23—consisting of Congolese Tutsis and expatriate or cross-border administrative elements—reflect a broader pattern in which militias are often embedded within a regional security ecosystem that includes foreign advisors, financing channels, and logistic support. The M23’s activities thus go beyond the immediate military objective of territorial control; they symbolize a larger mechanism through which external patrons can affect the balance of power within the DRC by supporting actors who can deliver predictable political outcomes, even if those outcomes do not align with the electoral will of the Congolese people.

The Congo River Alliance (AFC), which brings together the M23 with other allied factions and affiliates, represents a broader coalition designed to articulate shared ambitions and coordinate strategies for regaining political influence in Kinshasa. While its members may differ in organizational structure, they converge on the strategic premise that the DRC’s political trajectory should be influenced by a coalition capable of delivering a shift in power, whether by constitutional means or otherwise. The question of whether this coalition is acting democratically or through coercion has practical implications: if its members insist on a democratic path, their actions must be held to public scrutiny, with transparent processes guiding leadership transitions and resource distribution. If, on the other hand, the coalition operates primarily as a mechanism for restoring influence through force or intimidation, the result is likely to be more instability and less predictability in governance.

Statements attributed to Congolese political actors—such as Ramazani Shadary’s remark that “Our objective is to regain power democratically in the DRC”—highlight the ambiguity that defines the current political landscape. The phrase itself, employed in a media context, can be interpreted variably: some may see it as evidence of a commitment to democratic norms, while others may view it as a convenient pretext for actions that serve the interests of entrenched power structures. Regardless of interpretation, the underlying message is that the power equation in the DRC remains deeply contingent on the interplay between domestic political actors and external patrons who can influence both the resources available to these actors and the legitimacy with which their actions are perceived by the Congolese people. The result is a political environment in which governance is simultaneously contested and orchestrated from multiple centers of power, complicating any straightforward path toward political reform or peace.

The broader regional implications of Kagame and Museveni’s involvement extend to security dynamics that influence the entire Great Lakes region. Kagame, whose leadership has included a rapid modernization of the Rwandan security apparatus and a regional assertiveness in matters of cross-border security, has pursued a variety of policy options aimed at maintaining influence over the DRC’s eastern flank. Museveni’s Uganda, with its own security interests and historical experience of conflict, has engaged in activities that align with the broader regional strategy of shaping Congo’s political outcomes and securing economic interests along the border corridors. The interplay between these two regional powers and the Congolese leadership has contributed to a security environment in which external patrons, local militias, and government forces operate in a complex, often opaque ecosystem. The consequences for governance and humanitarian outcomes in the DRC are significant: external actors can supply resources, recognize or delegitimize leaders, and help set the rules of engagement in ways that affect everyday life for Congolese citizens.

In addition to the regional players, the internal dynamics within Kinshasa and across the country must be considered. The Congolese government, its security forces, and its political elites have all been implicated in practices that erode trust in the state and undermine the possibility of durable reform. The ongoing tension between the formal political process and the informal networks of patronage, corruption, and coercion makes the political landscape highly volatile. The M23 and AFC are not island phenomena; they are part of a broader system in which power is distributed among a constellation of actors who can mobilize resources, coordinate actions, and define the terms of political engagement. This systemic complexity requires a comprehensive approach to peace-building—one that addresses not only the symptoms of conflict but also the structural incentives that sustain it.

The analysis thus invites a careful, nuanced understanding of the international and regional dimensions of the DRC crisis. It is not enough to condemn militias or to praise reformist authorities in Kinshasa; the path to lasting peace entails recognizing the interdependence of governance, security, and resource management across borders. The coming years will test whether external patrons are willing to recalibrate their support toward approaches that prioritize transparency, accountability, and inclusive political processes in the DRC, or whether the region will continue to rely on a stabilized status quo that enables the continuation of extractive economies and provisional political settlements that do not resolve underlying tensions. The conversation must therefore be anchored in a commitment to the Congolese people: their rights, their security, and their future should be at the center of every strategy, both regional and global, aimed at shaping the Great Lakes region’s trajectory.

Conclusion

The Congolese narrative—its history of conflict, its mineral wealth, and its fragile political institutions—presents a formidable test for governance, regional stability, and international cooperation. The eastern DRC’s struggle to control valuable resources like coltan, cobalt, copper, gold, and tin is inseparable from the broader questions about who decides Congo’s political future, how power is exercised, and what kind of governance can ensure security and prosperity for ordinary citizens. The M23 and the AFC symbolize a broader regional calculus: external patrons may seek influence by supporting or exploiting Congolese factions, but such strategies risk perpetuating cycles of violence and deprivation unless accompanied by credible governance reforms, transparent resource management, and robust accountability mechanisms. The historical arc—from the 1997 arrival of Laurent-Désiré Kabila, through the tumultuous years of Joseph Kabila’s presidency, to the contemporary dynamics that bring Kagame and Museveni into dialogue with Kinshasa—offers a reminder that politics in the DRC cannot be understood in isolation from regional power structures or global commodity markets.

Ultimately, achieving peace and durable development in the DRC requires a multi-faceted approach. This includes strengthening state institutions, reforming security forces to reduce predation and human rights abuses, promoting an open and fair electoral process, and enforcing transparent, accountable mineral trade practices that prevent the siphoning off of resources into the hands of a few. It also demands sustained regional cooperation that goes beyond episodic politesse and transactional diplomacy to establish verifiable commitments to non-interference and mutual development. The people of the DRC deserve a political order that reflects their rights, respects their sovereignty, and provides a foundation for lasting stability—one in which mineral wealth serves as a tool for national advancement rather than a pretext for perpetual conflict.

As observers and participants in this ongoing narrative, it remains crucial to monitor how leadership choices, international engagements, and regional security dynamics evolve. The central question remains: will the DRC’s governance architecture eventually align with the aspirations of its citizens, or will external patrons and internal factions continue to define Congo’s political fate? The answer will determine not only the country’s future but also the broader stability of the Great Lakes region and the reliability of global mineral supply chains that millions rely on every day. The moral imperative is clear: accountability, transparency, and lasting social contract between the Congolese people and their state must be more than rhetorical commitments. They must be the practical, measurable objective of every policy, every investment, and every vote that seeks to shape a more peaceful, prosperous Congo.