But nothing, without question, quite matches the spectacle unfolding on November 30, 2025, when Gustave Mbonyumutwa, a full-of-pride voice of the genocide-denialist movement Jambo Asbl, declared that Belgian Foreign Minister Maxime Prévot has 'offered the left cheek' to Rwanda.
Of all metaphors available in the entire universe of pomposity, Gustave chose that. The cheek. The offering. Sounds like biblical theatricality. And of course, the subtle allusion that Prévot is some sort of diplomatic repentant, forced into Kigali without adequate spiritual guidance from⦠well, from Gustave himself.
The message, posted delightedly on X-platform, is both a revelation and a confession: a revelation of Jambo Asbl’s intoxicating influence in Belgium. It is also a clear declaration that they sincerely believe Brussels should not take a step toward Rwanda without first seeking counsel from them. Yes, from men and women whose chief political expertise consists of weaponising trauma, denying genocide, and producing YouTube monologues that would humiliate even the sluggish conspiracy theorist.
Here, in full glory, is how Gustave set the stage: 'Maxime Prévot, our Minister of Foreign Affairs, was in Kigali this Wednesday, November 19, and Thursday, November 20, as part of the Ministerial Conference of La Francophonie. Diplomatic relations between Belgium and Rwanda, having been severed since March 2025, his presence as head of Belgian diplomacy in the Rwandan capital is surprising, to say the least.'
Gustave Mbonyumutwa, a full-of-pride voice of the genocide-denialist movement Jambo Asbl, recently declared that Belgian Foreign Minister Maxime Prévot had 'offered the left cheek' to Rwanda.
Amazing, indeed, largely because Jambo Asbl had already spent almost a year celebrating the break of diplomatic ties, as if Belgium had finally achieved the eschatological prophecies of their blog posts. But Gustave Mbonyumutwa wasn’t done.
He said: 'For the record, under the impetus of Maxime Prévot, Belgium carried and obtained European sanctions against several high-ranking Rwandan officials for their role in the war in the east of the DRC⦠a rare, assumed approach that directly led to the rupture of diplomatic relations at the initiative of Kigali.'
'Rare' is right. Rare, because European diplomacy on the Great Lakes Region of Africa is usually written by committee, shaped by ignorance, and implemented by amateurs who couldn’t distinguish Goma from Gulu if you handed them a map and a flashlight. But in Gustave’s world, Belgian sanctions were nothing less than a diplomatic thunderbolt, proof that Brussels was finally listening to the prophets of Jambo Asbl.
And that’s the heart of the drama: Jambo Asbl truly believes they dictate Belgium’s foreign policy toward Rwanda, and Gustave’s text reads like a disappointed CEO briefing shareholders after an unexpected boardroom betrayal.
The victory of a political cult
Gustave, relaxing in his self-appointed role as guardian of Belgian moral clarity, went into full celebration mode: 'These sanctions constituted a clear signal to all belligerent parties, namely that Belgium and Europe intended to defend the principle of the territorial sovereignty of the DRC, beyond any other consideration.'
Ah, yes, 'beyond any other consideration.' A phrase that scholars of political hypocrisy should immediately frame.
Because no country on earth has undermined Congolese sovereignty more consistently than Belgium, whose colonial administration invented racial hierarchies, forced labour quotas, collective punishments, and the political fragmentation that remains the skeleton of Congolese instability. Forget not the ethnic identity cards in Rwanda leading to genocide.
As historian Adam Hochschild reminds us in his book King Leopold’s Ghost, Belgium’s 'civilizing mission' included mass amputations, forced labour camps, and the largest population reduction in African colonial history. And yet, here is Gustave, relentlessly confident, declaring Belgium the new defender of Congolese sovereignty.
This is precisely what a Cameroonian historian and political theorist, Achille Mbembe, once described as 'the colonial afterlife of moral pretension': the bizarre European belief that historical perpetration inevitably qualifies one to lecture survivors on ethics.
But Gustave was still warming up. After celebrating sanctions, he pivoted to disappointment: Prévot, he lamented, went to Kigali anyway. 'So why, when the situation on the ground has hardly changed, did the minister insist on going to Kigali in person?'
Why indeed? The Francophonie ministerial meeting is multilateral, scheduled years in advance, and attended by dozens of states, but in Gustave’s world, Prévot’s mere presence constitutes nothing less than a seismic treachery of the Jambo worldview.
That is when the real complaint surfaces: 'Every embrace, every smile, every word spoken will be exploited to fuel the narrative of the Rwandans who support the M23 rebels in the war in the east of the DRC, diametrically opposed to the objective pursued by the sanctions of March.'
The sheer panic reveals something essential: Jambo Asbl lives in fear of Rwandan diplomatic competence.
This fear is not new. I remember reading a comment from one European diplomat in 2022, who observed that 'Rwanda is the only African state whose diplomats consistently prepare harder than their Western interlocutors.' This ability to outthink, outmanoeuvre, and out-reason European officials doesn’t sit well with groups like Jambo, whose entire political project depends on Western gullibility.
Thus, Gustave’s anxiety: if Belgian diplomats meet Rwandans face-to-face, they might discover reality.
Arrogance learned from Belgium
Gustave Mbonyumutwa then shifts from critic to mentor, adopting the tone of a good-mannered yet annoyed consultant who was omitted from the meeting he believes he should have chaired.
'It would indeed be simplistic to reduce this visit to a capitulation⦠Prévot may have sought to use the multilateral framework to maintain a minimum of contact⦠A way to avoid escalation, to preserve space for dialogue, and to show both firmness and openness.' This spin has two functions: First, to reassure Jambo supporters that the Belgian minister may still be under their ideological supervision. And two, to position Gustave as a gatekeeper of acceptable Belgian diplomatic conduct.
The arrogance, of course, is almost inspiring. But it is rooted in something factual. For years, Belgian institutions have given platforms, funding, and political protection to genocide ideologues and deniers, from hosting Jambo Asbl conferences in Brussels to allowing known propagandists to speak unrestrained in parliamentary hearings. Belgian journalists, too, have often swallowed Jambo narratives whole, repeating them with the naivety of young university students reading their first anti-Rwanda website.
This ecosystem has created a perilous deception: that Belgium is still the moral tutor of Rwanda, and that Jambo Asbl are the inherent assistants who help interpret 'the Rwandan mind.'
It is an old colonial script, recycled into modern diplomacy.
When self-importance runs into fantasy
Then comes Gustave’s pièce de résistance, his ecclesiastical cautionary to the Belgian state: 'Kigali never forgives for free. The regime never backtracks without obtaining a real concession⦠what it demands looks more like an alignment, or at the very least, a form of submission.'
Submission. The colonial vocabulary flows unconsciously. But what’s noteworthy here is not the slur, but the revelation: Gustave genuinely accepts as true that Belgium must have leverage over Rwanda, leverage that Rwanda has a duty to fear.
Because in geopolitical reality, Rwanda has leverage over Belgium: intelligence, migration, regional security, international peacekeeping, counterterrorism partnerships, economic cooperation, and the moral authority of having survived and rebuilt after genocide.
As President Paul Kagame said in 2022, 'there isn’t anybody going to come from anywhere, to bully us into something to do with our lives, and we accept it'. In other words, you cannot intimidate a nation that survived the Genocide Against the Tutsi.
One political scientist said, 'The belief that Rwanda can be pressured through sanctions reflects a misunderstanding of its strategic depth. Few African states are less susceptible to punitive posturing than Rwanda, whose foreign policy is rooted in existential vigilance.'
Belgium, however, still believes that posturing is a substitute for strategy. And Jambo Asbl, who depend entirely on Belgian patronage, believe it even more.
Why Jambo Asbl feels so potent
At this point, one has a duty to ask: Why is Gustave Mbonyumutwa so confident? Why does Jambo Asbl speak with the entitled tone of a group or an organisation embedded in Belgian foreign policy?
The response is simple and clear: Belgium has indulged them for years. First, Jambo Asbl was allowed to break news on Belgian diplomatic decisions.
Gustave and his associates were the ones who joyfully announced Belgium’s refusal to accept Vincent Karega as Rwanda’s ambassador to Brussels. Who gave them this access? Who authorised them to act as unofficial spokespersons of Belgian diplomacy?
Secondly, Belgian political parties have treated them as 'representatives of the Rwandan diaspora.' Even though majority of Rwandans in Belgium reject them, and they represent the children, well-wishers, and ideological descendants of genocide perpetrators predominantly.
Thirdly, several Belgian media houses interview them as experts on the Great Lakes. Not historians, not scholars or maybe United Nations investigators. But Jambo Asbl, whose founders openly defend genocidaires or minimise the Genocide Against the Tutsi.
Lastly, their ideological vocabulary has infiltrated Belgian and European parliamentary discourse. This is why you find MPs repeat their talking points almost verbatim: 'M23 is a Rwandan invention,' 'Rwanda destabilises the region,' 'the rights of 'Rwandan dissidents’ must be protected', and that 'Ingabire Victoire is a heroâ¦'
This is colonial-era inversion all over again, the perpetrators recast as victims, the victims portrayed as threats.
Returning to Gustave’s message, he pressed further into his paternalistic outrage: he warns Belgium and asks the government not to disappoint them again.
'The danger is not the visit itself, but the ambiguity it leaves behind. If Brussels wants to maintain the sanctions⦠it must assume this with consistency and set clear conditions.'
Yes! He said: 'Consistency.' 'Clear conditions.' This is not a political activist speaking. This is a big shot who believes he is part of the foreign ministry’s decision-making mechanism.
He continues: 'Between these two poles, symbolic and ambiguous gestures can be misinterpreted or even hijacked.' Hijacked. By Kigali. Take note of the assumption: Rwanda is inherently manipulative, duplicitous, and scheming. A stereotype as old as colonial anthropology.
Historian Jean-Pierre Chrétien warned years ago that 'colonial discourse constructed the Tutsi as simultaneously superior and suspect, admired for discipline, feared for intelligence, and condemned for imagined conspiracies.' Gustave’s text is soaked in this legacy.
Then we reach the conclusion of a theatrical, almost Shakespearean lamentation: 'Be that as it may, Minister Prévot will have courageously offered the other cheek: it remains to be seen whether this will give him any influence over Rwanda⦠or whether he will also lose the one he still had over the Congo.'
This is where sarcasm strengthens itself. No doubt, the message is unmistakable: Maxime Prévot should not have travelled to Kigali without consulting Gustave Mbonyumutwa, prophet-in-chief of Belgian righteousness and the self-appointed guardian of the Great Lakes.
It is an astounding show of grandiosity, but consistent with the ideology of Jambo Asbl, who have spent years cultivating a fantasy world in which: Belgian ministers hang on their every tweet; European sanctions are designed in their living rooms; the DRC conflict is a saga in which they are crucial, decisive actors, and Rwanda must be punished until it kneels in repentance. This is not politics but delusions. It is a deranged form of self-importance draped in diplomatic vocabulary.
How Europe enables genocide ideology and denial
Underlying this entire episode is a deeper, darker truth: European institutions continue to tolerate, even reward, Tutsi genocide denial. Several European actors often glamorise political dissidents even when their ideology is anchored in denialist narratives of mass violence.'
Belgium, France, and other states have repeatedly published books denying or justifying the genocide; accommodated organisations tied to genocidaires; offered podiums to individuals linked to the FDLR; invited genocide apologists to panels and conferences, and portrayed them as 'opposition leaders' or 'diaspora voices.'
This is why Jambo Asbl feels powerful. This is why Gustave Mbonyumutwa writes with such confidence. This is why he believes Belgian ministers owe him explanations.
Because Belgium has never fully reckoned with its role in the genocide, from training FAR officers in 1994 to allowing genocidaires to flee into Zaire under the protective gaze of Belgian soldiers.
As Howard French once wrote: 'Europe wants to judge Rwanda without first judging itself.' And that has created fertile ground for ideological parasites.
The story reveals three uncomfortable truths. The Belgian government mistakes moral posturing for policy. And this is why you have sanctions without a strategy. They issue condemnations without comprehension.
One can only agree with a diplomat who rightly observed: 'Belgian policy on the Great Lakes is governed by nostalgia, guilt, and lobbying, not by knowledge.'
Rwanda refused to play the colonial game
Consistently, Rwanda responds to hypocrisy with clarity, to condescension with defence to its sovereignty and to intimidation with strategy. Belgium is not used to this. That is why Prévot’s attendance at Francophonie looked to Gustave like capitulation.
No wonder Jambo Asbl has been allowed to imagine itself as the brain behind Belgian policy. And, as a result, they behave accordingly, with entitlement, arrogance, and ideological fervour.
Let nobody pretend. Gustave’s anger is not about foreign policy. It is about exclusion. He expected to be on the plane and to brief the minister about Rwanda. He expected his talking points to be repeated in Kigali, and Belgium to act as the diplomatic arm of Jambo Asbl.
When Prévot violated the script, Gustave wrote his expression of grief, a mixture of celebration, unsolicited advice, disappointment, conspiracy fear and moral posturing.
Who offered the real cheek?
Gustave’s final line deserves one last look: 'Prévot will have courageously offered the other cheekâ¦' But the truth is reversed. Belgium has been offering the cheek for decades, not to Rwanda, but to the descendants, sympathisers, and apologists of genocidaires who have found ideological refuge within Belgian institutions.
By indulging Jambo Asbl, Belgium has slapped truth on one cheek, slapped history on the other, and invited denialism to sit at the table. If Prévot loses influence in the Congo and Rwanda, it won’t be because he visited Kigali. It will be because Belgium continues to allow organisations like Jambo Asbl to dictate moral narratives they have no legitimacy to shape.
Gustave Mbonyumutwa’s message is not a diplomatic analysis. It is an indictment of Belgium’s failure to understand the region it once claimed to govern. And if Belgium continues to take advice from men like him, it will discover, too late, that the only cheek being offeredâ¦is its own.
And somewhere in Brussels, one can almost picture Prévot Maxime yitangiriye itama, his cheek resting heavily on an upturned palm, the unmistakable Rwandan posture of someone wondering where life slipped from diplomacy into disgrace. There he sits, not contemplating geopolitics, but stunned that his grand ministerial pilgrimage has earned him a public admonition from Gustave Mbonyumutwa, a man who treats EU sanctions as holy scripture and his own tweets as binding diplomatic directives. If humiliation had an official posture, Prévot perfected it that day.
Editorial Note: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author, Tom Ndairo, a Rwandan genocide scholar.
