Traduction
Aujourd’hui, nous nous réunissons à nouveau pour commémorer.
À toutes les personnes présentes, ainsi qu’à celles qui nous suivent en ligne, merci de vous joindre à nous en ce jour important. Nous apprécions profondément les amis qui, chaque année, participent à cette commémoration, physiquement ou en pensée, sans jamais faillir.
Permettez-moi de commencer par le témoignage puissant et émouvant que Théoneste vient de livrer. Ces témoignages ne sont pas des récits ordinaires : ils sont enracinés dans une histoire réelle et dans une expérience vécue.
Que ce soit ici dans le pays, ou ailleurs — et surtout ailleurs — certains ont souvent déformé notre histoire pour diverses raisons. Ils font face à une difficulté réelle s’ils espèrent que les gens modifient l’histoire et la racontent autrement.
Ce que je dirais, comme l’a dit Théoneste, c’est que les temps changent, et ils ont changé. Plus jamais personne ne mourra de la manière dont Théoneste l’a décrite, ni même comme lui-même est « mort », car c’était une forme de mort. Le fait qu’il soit ici est une forme de résurrection. Plus jamais cela ne se reproduira.
Il y a de nombreuses raisons à cela, mais l’une est simple : on ne peut pas tuer une personne deux fois. Si vous essayez, cette personne vous arrêtera avant d’y parvenir. Aujourd’hui, alors que certains à l’extérieur peuvent se moquer ou traiter ces sujets à la légère, la vérité est que ce pays ne mourra pas deux fois. Avant que quiconque ne détruise le Rwanda, le Rwanda se défendra.
Que ce soit nous, les adultes, ou notre jeune génération, personne ne les tuera deux fois. Cela n’arrivera pas. Nous vivrons comme les êtres humains doivent vivre, comme tous les autres vivent. Et, inévitablement, nous ne demanderons à personne la permission de vivre.
Certains pourraient interpréter ces paroles différemment, mais ce que j’ai dit est exactement ce que je veux dire, et c’est ainsi qu’il faut le comprendre.
Kwibuka a une signification profonde pour notre nation. C’est ainsi que nous affrontons et surmontons les divisions qui ont failli nous détruire.
Cette journée nous donne de la force à tous. Nous puisons dans la force des survivants, qui constituent une réserve d’humanité nourrissant l’âme de notre nation.
À tous les survivants, sachez que vous n’êtes pas seuls. Nous sommes toujours à vos côtés. Tout ce que nous avons accompli n’a été possible que parce que tous les Rwandais ont décidé d’unir leurs efforts dans un objectif commun.
Nous honorons le rôle joué par chaque Rwandais dans la renaissance de notre pays.
La réalité du génocide est claire pour tous. Les principaux responsables ont été condamnés par des juridictions internationales sur la base de preuves rigoureuses.
Le processus Gacaca a documenté le déroulement du génocide dans chaque village et chaque quartier du Rwanda. Plus de 50 millions de pages manuscrites ont été produites en dix ans.
Ici même, là où nous nous tenons, un quart de million de victimes du génocide reposent.
Et en 2018, l’Assemblée générale des Nations unies a adopté une résolution désignant le génocide contre les Tutsi par son nom exact, avec le soutien de tous les États membres sauf un.
La vérité est incontestable.
Et pourtant, encore aujourd’hui, certains continuent de semer le doute et de déformer les faits.
Ce n’est pas seulement une question d’ignorance, mais quelque chose de plus profond.
Cela signifie que le risque de voir l’histoire se répéter est constant, si nous devenons indifférents.
Le négationnisme du génocide commence bien avant que le génocide lui-même ne soit commis.
Il existe un schéma : on détourne le regard face aux signes avant-coureurs, ou on les minimise. Les discours de haine deviennent des actes de haine, présentés comme des expressions de mécontentement populaire. Des comportements qui devraient être immédiatement condamnés sont rationalisés et minimisés. Les préparatifs sont dissimulés derrière des récits de peur et de frustration. Et, ce faisant, une équivalence morale est créée entre les victimes et les organisateurs du génocide.
Tous ces éléments étaient présents dans notre propre histoire.
Certains prétendent que le génocide contre les Tutsi fut spontané. C’est faux. Il a été soigneusement préparé et exécuté au grand jour.
Malheureusement, certains qui disaient la vérité à l’époque, et qui étaient même témoins, sont ensuite devenus des propagateurs de distorsions, principalement pour des raisons politiques.
Des milices étaient formées et endoctrinées dans la haine ; des armes étaient importées en grande quantité ; et les Rwandais qui s’y opposaient étaient menacés ou tués.
Avant 1994, des vagues de massacres plus limités ont servi à banaliser la violence et à tester la réaction du monde.
Et, à quelques exceptions héroïques près, le monde est resté indifférent jusqu’à ce qu’il soit trop tard.
Dans les années 1960, après de nombreux massacres de Tutsi et leur exil forcé, des voix internationales, comme celle de Bertrand Russell, ont parlé d’extermination systématique.
Ce schéma s’est poursuivi dans les années 1980 et au début des années 1990.
En 1993, une commission dirigée par Jean Carbonare a conclu qu’un génocide était en préparation.
La même année, le rapporteur spécial de l’ONU Bacre Waly Ndiaye a averti de la propagation d’une propagande présentant les Tutsi comme des ennemis.
En janvier 1994, le commandant de la mission de l’ONU au Rwanda a envoyé un télégramme signalant l’accumulation d’armes et l’établissement de listes de Tutsi à tuer. On lui a ordonné de transmettre ces informations au gouvernement qui préparait le génocide, sans agir davantage.
Et, malheureusement, la réaction aujourd’hui n’est pas différente.
Lorsque le génocide a commencé, la nature du crime était immédiatement évidente : tous les Tutsi étaient visés en raison de leur identité.
La réaction de la communauté internationale fut d’évacuer les étrangers et de retirer la plupart des casques bleus.
Si ces forces avaient été soutenues, de nombreuses vies auraient pu être sauvées.
Même le choix des mots utilisés pour décrire les événements faisait l’objet de calculs.
Refuser d’utiliser le terme « génocide » revient, en pratique, à une forme de négation.
Des moyens techniques existaient pour brouiller les radios incitant aux massacres, mais l’opération fut jugée trop coûteuse.
Pour les Rwandais, la leçon fut brutale : si nos vies ne coïncident pas avec les intérêts d’autrui, elles ne valent rien.
Ainsi, c’est l’Armée patriotique rwandaise qui a mis fin au génocide.
Depuis, les forces de défense rwandaises se sont forgé une réputation respectée dans les missions internationales.
Aucune sanction ou insulte extérieure ne peut ternir leur honneur.
Après le génocide, les Rwandais ont choisi de reconstruire ensemble leur pays.
Le génocide ne peut plus se reproduire ici. Cela n’arrivera pas.
Même les discours et les réunions hostiles à l’étranger ne changeront rien.
Les Rwandais sont déterminés.
Le pouvoir que nous avons est de voir la vérité et de parler.
Mais des dangers persistent.
Après 1994, les forces génocidaires ont fui vers la RDC et ont continué des attaques.
Depuis, le Rwanda a pris des mesures pour empêcher toute répétition.
Ce n’est pas un problème que le Rwanda doit affronter seul.
Imaginez un champ en feu : au début, les flammes sont petites, mais ignorées, elles deviennent incontrôlables.
L’Afrique doit comprendre les dangers de l’inaction face à la haine.
Les institutions africaines doivent agir avec détermination.
La souveraineté ne doit pas servir à couvrir les abus.
Nous ne pouvons pas répéter les erreurs du passé.
L’idéologie génocidaire est encore présente dans la région.
Certains accusent le Rwanda d’exagérer : c’est faux et révélateur d’un cynisme profond.
Ce qui fait la force du Rwanda aujourd’hui, c’est l’unité de son peuple et sa conviction de vivre en sécurité et dans la dignité.
Nous demandons à nos partenaires de lutter contre l’extrémisme avec nous, et non de punir le Rwanda pour se défendre.
Nous devons aux générations futures plus que la survie : elles méritent un pays sûr, uni et audacieux, ainsi qu’une Afrique intégrée et confiante.
Nous vous invitons à vous tenir à nos côtés, dans la mémoire, mais aussi dans l’action.
Citation
Kigali, 7 April 2026
Today, we gather again in remembrance.
To everyone present, and watching online, thank you for joining us,
on this important day. We deeply appreciate the friends who join
us every year, in person or in spirit, without fail.
Let me begin with the powerful and moving testimony that
Théoneste has just delivered. These testimonies are not ordinary
stories, they are rooted in real history and lived experience.
Whether here in the country, or outside, especially outside, there
are those who have often distorted this history of ours for different
reasons. They have a real challenge on their hands if they expect
people to change history and tell it differently.
What I would say, as Theoneste said, is that times do change, and
times have changed. No one will ever die again the way Theoneste
was describing it, or even the way he himself died, because it was
a form of death. The fact that he is here is a form of resurrection.
No one will ever die again in this way.
There are many reasons for this, but one is simple: you cannot kill
a person twice. If you try, that person will stop you before you
succeed. As we stand here today, while some outside may mock
or speak lightly about these matters, the truth is that this country
will not die twice. Before anyone destroys Rwanda, Rwanda will
defend itself.
Whether it is us adults, or our younger generation, no one will kill
them twice. It will not happen. We will live the way people are
supposed to live, the way everyone else lives. And inevitably we will
not ask anyone for permission to live.
Some may interpret these words differently, but what I have said is
exactly what I mean, and that is how it should be understood.
Kwibuka carries profound meaning for our nation. It is how we
confront and overcome the divisions that nearly destroyed us.
This day empowers us all. We draw on the strength of survivors,
who provide the reservoir of humanity that feeds our nation’s soul.
To all survivors, know that you are not alone. We stand with you
always. Everything we have achieved was only possible because
all Rwandans decided to join hands in common purpose.
We honour the role played by every Rwandan in our country’s
rebirth.
The reality of the genocide is clear for all to see. The ringleaders
were convicted in international courts with rigorous evidence.
2
The Gacaca process documented the course of the genocide, in
every single village and neighbourhood in Rwanda. Over 50 million
hand-written pages were produced during the ten years of Gacaca.
Right here where we are standing, a quarter of a million victims of
the genocide are laid to rest.
And in 2018, the United Nations General Assembly adopted a
resolution that called the Genocide against the Tutsi by its proper
name, with the support of every member state but one.
The truth is undeniable.
And yet, we still find people sowing doubt and twisting the facts,
up to today.
This is not just a matter of ignorance but something much deeper.
It means that the risk of seeing history repeat itself is a constant
danger, if we allow ourselves and our friends to become indifferent.
Genocide denial begins long before the genocide itself is
committed.
There is a pattern of looking away from the warning signs or taking
them lightly. Hate speech turns into hate acts, dismissed as
expressions of popular discontent. Behaviour that should be
immediately condemned is rationalized and minimized. The
preparations are masked by narratives of popular grievance and
fear. In the process, a moral equivalence is created between the
targets of the genocide and the planners of it.
3
All of these elements were present in our own story.
There are some who pretend that the Genocide against the Tutsi
was a spontaneous event. That is not true. It was carefully
prepared, and carried out in plain sight.
Regrettably, some who spoke the truth at the time, and who were
even eyewitnesses, later became peddlers of distortion, mainly for
political reasons.
Militias were openly trained and indoctrinated in hate; weapons
were imported in large quantities; and Rwandans who opposed it
were threatened or killed.
Before 1994, communities were subjected to waves of smaller
massacres, meant to normalize the killing, and also to measure the
reaction of the wider world.
And with only a few heroic exceptions, the world was unconcerned
until it was too late.
In the early 1960s, after countless Tutsi were killed or forced into
exile, international voices, such as Bertrand Russell, to name just
one, described it as systematic extermination.
The pattern continued in the 1980s and early 1990s, when Tutsi
communities such as the Bagogwe in the northwest were targeted
in organized attacks.
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In 1993, a commission led by Jean Carbonare investigated these
atrocities. After documenting mass graves and the involvement of
state authorities, they concluded that a genocide was being
prepared.
In the same year, UN Special Rapporteur Bacre Waly Ndiaye,
warned that organized propaganda portraying the Tutsi as enemies
was spreading openly, helping prepare the population for mass
violence.
In January 1994, the commander of the United Nations mission in
Rwanda sent a fax back to headquarters in New York with detailed
intelligence that the Interahamwe were stockpiling weapons and
compiling lists of Tutsi to be killed. He was then ordered to share
the information with the very government which was preparing the
genocide, and to take no further action.
And sadly, the reaction today is no different, here in our region and
we can see it right before our eyes.
When the genocide began, the nature of the crime was immediately
obvious. All Tutsi were targeted because of their identity. Nowhere
was safe, including churches and schools.
That horrific reality only underscores the humanity and courage of
the Rwandans who took risks to provide hiding places for their
fellow citizens.
The reaction of the international community was to evacuate
foreigners, and withdraw most peacekeepers. At ETO Kicukiro,
5
when the peacekeepers withdrew, thousands of desperate Tutsi
were left to die. Such scenes were repeated across the country.
If these forces had instead been supported to protect Rwandans,
the killers could have been deterred and many people would still be
alive. The lives saved by the United Nations peacekeepers who
were allowed to remain makes clear how much more could have
been done with political will.
Even as the killings accelerated, the language used to describe
what was happening itself became a matter of calculation.
Genocide is defined in international law precisely to create an
obligation to act. To witness such a crime and deliberately refuse
to use the term is, in effect, genocide denial, perhaps even a form
of aiding and abetting.
The technology existed to disrupt the radio broadcasts that
directed the killings. The planes capable of jamming those signals
were available. Officials even calculated the hourly cost of the
mission. In the end, the operation was deemed to be too expensive,
and potentially also a violation of Rwanda’s sovereignty. In their
minds, those lives were worth nothing.
For Rwandans, the lesson was brutal and it has not been forgotten.
If our lives do not happen to align with someone else’s interests,
they are not worth saving.
6
And so it had to be the Rwandan Patriotic Army that led the
Campaign against Genocide and ended it. Our deepest source of
grief was always that we could not arrive earlier.
This is a simple truth of history which many today still have
reservations about acknowledging, for reasons we will never
understand.
The culture and character of today’s Rwanda Defence Force was
forged in those dramatic moments. It guides the conduct of our
forces who serve abroad in peacebuilding missions, earning
universal respect.
Indeed, no sanction or insult from outside can ever tarnish the
honour and integrity of Rwanda’s defence and security forces, who
are among the finest that can be found anywhere.
I look forward to raising this matter of sanctions at the highest level
to understand the basis for such an injustice.
Rwandans understand the cost of tolerating extremism, and our
central security principle is to put the protection of civilians first.
After the genocide, Rwandans chose to rebuild our country
together. With that, came a promise to never let the politics of
genocide take root ever again.
Genocide cannot happen here again. It won’t.
7
Even with the noise you hear in the region, of people meeting in
Europe and Kinshasa, bringing the son of Habyarimana and
relatives from wherever and gathering. All that is just noise that
cannot amount to anything that will happen here again. It cannot
happen.
And I am saying this not just as a person. I am saying it because I
know every Rwandan, young and old, is as determined in saying so
as I am saying now to you.
Along the way, Rwandans faced constant criticism, and many
attempts to twist our history. But the power we will always have is
to use our minds to see the truth, and our voices to speak up when
something is not right. You can never silence us in whatever form.
We must be clear about the dangers that remain.
When the genocidal government collapsed in July 1994, the
soldiers and militias fled across the border into DRC, forcing
millions of civilians along with them. Inside the camps, they
reorganized into what is now known as FDLR, and launched a
sustained cross-border insurgency against Rwanda, claiming tens
of thousands more lives.
This was the period known as the Abacengezi insurgency, and the
western border was only fully secured by the end of the 1990s,
through the combined efforts of our army and the brave residents
of those areas.
8
And since then, our defensive measures have been aimed at
ensuring that such attacks can never again be made across our
borders.
This is not a problem that should be left to Rwanda alone. Doing so
only rewards those behind the threats, while Rwanda is penalized
for standing up for itself.
Imagine a farmer whose field catches fire.
At first, the flames are small. A few neighbours think it does not
concern them. Others say the wind will change, and the fire will die
out on its own. So they watch and wait. But the wind does not
change.
Meanwhile, a pyromaniac is secretly adding fuel to the fire. So the
fire spreads from one field to another, and then into the forest and
the towns, and beyond.
Only then do people run with buckets of water and call for the
establishment of a fire department.
Africans, more than most, should understand the danger of moral
passivity, in the face of hatred and violent extremism. We must be
reminded by all this history. Today, our continent accounts for the
majority of the world’s active conflicts. In 1994, Africa’s collective
institutions also failed to respond.
9
I say this because the call for African sovereignty, legitimate and
necessary as it is, must also mean that African institutions act
decisively when Africans are at risk.
Bad actors must not be allowed to hide behind the principle of
sovereignty to evade responsibility for abuses or deny citizens their
rights.
We cannot afford to repeat the mistakes of the past. Genocide
ideology is still spreading in our region. Left unchecked, it has the
power to take us all backwards again.
There are those who claim that Rwanda exaggerates these
concerns or that we have ulterior motives. This is not only false, it
exposes the deep cynicism that led to the tragedy we
commemorate today.
What sustains Rwanda today is the unity of Rwandans, and the
conviction that like all people, we have the right to live in safety and
dignity, and at peace with all our neighbours.
What we ask, is for partners to join with us to fight extremism rather
than punishing Rwanda for defending itself.
We owe future generations of Rwandans more than survival. They
deserve to inherit a secure, united, and bold country, and an
integrated and confident Africa.
We invite you to stand with us in remembrance, and also in action.
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