CTKA: Review 'The French Connection'.

[Jan Klimkowski]

In the account below, Belgian police commissioner Gerard Soete admits disposing of Lumumba's body in grisly fashion. My emphasis in bold.

'History will one day have its say'

Finally the chickens are coming home to roost. Thirty-nine years after the Congolese prime minister, Patrice Lumumba was assassinated on 17 January 1961, the truth is finally emerging. A book based on newly declassified Belgian archives has firmly pinned Belgium in the dock. The revelations, including the fact that Lumumba's body was cut into pieces and doused in sulphuric acid to erase the evidence, are so startling that the Belgian parliament decided on 9 December 1999 to set up a commission of inquiry into Lumumba's death and Belgium's responsibility in it. A can of worms, likely to touch Washington, is about to be opened, writes our Brussels correspondent, Francois Misser.

"My dear wife,
I am writing these words not knowing whether they will reach you, when they will reach you, and whether I shall still be alive when you read them.
All through my struggle for the independence of my country, I have never doubted for a single instant the final triumph of the sacred cause to which my companions and I have devoted all our lives. But what we wished for our country, its right to an honourable life, to unstained dignity, to independence without restrictions, was never desired by the Belgian imperialists and their Western allies who found direct and indirect support, both deliberate and unintentional amongst certain high officials of the United Nations, that organisation in which we placed all our trust when we called on its assistance.
They have corrupted some of our compatriots and bribed others. They have helped to distort the truth and bring our independence into dishonour. How could I speak otherwise?
Dead or alive, free or in prison by order of the imperialists, it is not I myself who count. It is the Congo, it is our poor people for whom independence has been transformed into a cage from beyond whose confines the outside world looks on us, sometimes with kindly sympathy but at other times with joy and pleasure.
But my faith will remain unshakeable. I know and I feel in my heart that sooner or later my people will rid themselves of all their enemies, both internal and external, and that they will rise as one man to say no to the degradation and shame of colonialism, and regain their dignity in the clear light of the sun...
As to my children whom I leave and whom I may never see again, I should like them to be told that it is for them, as it is for every Congolese, to accomplish the sacred task of reconstructing our independence and our sovereignty: for without dignity there is no liberty, without justice there is no dignity, and without independence there are no free men.
Neither brutality, nor cruelty nor torture will ever bring me to ask for mercy, for I prefer to die with my head unbowed, my faith unshakeable and with profound trust in the destiny of my country, rather than live under subjection and disregarding scared principles.
History will one day have its say, but it will not be the history that is taught in Brussels, Paris, Washington or in the United Nations, but the history which will be taught in the countries freed from imperialism and its puppets. Africa will write its own history, and to the north and south of the Sahara, it will be a glorious and dignified history.
Do not weep for me, my dear wife. I know that my country, which is suffering so much, will know how to defend its independence and its liberty. Long Live the Congo. Long Live Africa!"

The wife to whom this letter was addressed in mid-January 1961 was Pauline Lumumba. The writer was Patrice Lumumba, Congo's first prime minister who was weeks away from death. "Do not weep for me, dear wife...[for] history will one day have its say," Lumumba had written. That "one day" is about to dawn.

The decision by the Belgian parliament to set up the official inquiry into Lumumba's assassination followed recommendations made by both the Belgian prime minister Guy Verhofstadt and foreign minister Louis Michel. Both men had been shocked to their boots by the revelations in Ludo de Witte's new book, De Moord op Lumumba (written in Dutch, published by Van Halewyrck, Louvain, Belgium).

Though a French translation is just about to come out, and an English translation is nowhere on the horizon, the Dutch original has caused so much consternation in the Belgian media that Prime Minister Verhofstadt and his foreign minister Michel could not help but do something.

De Witte, a sociologist, takes no prisoners in his book. He says matter-of-factly that "Belgium bears the greatest responsibility in [Lumumba's] murder. Belgians had the leadership of the whole operation - from [Lumumba's] transfer to Katanga, to his execution and the disappearance of his body."

According to De Witte who had unprecedented access to declassified Belgian national archives, the decision to assassinate Lumumba was taken by Belgian officials a few weeks after Congo's independence on 30 June 1960. By 14 July 1960, Belgium's ambassador to NATO at the time, was telling participants in a North Atlantic Council meeting that: "The situation would be better if the Congolese president, prime minister and minister of information all disappeared from the scene".

Obviously the authorities in Brussels could not forgive Lumumba's hard-hitting independence day speech delivered in the presence of King Baudouin of Belgium (see p22-23), in which he accused the Belgians of having brought "slavery and oppression to the Congo" and described the people's struggle for independence in terms of "tears, fire and blood".

To be fair, Lumumba had been sorely provoked by King Baudouin's insensitive speech moments earlier. Every Congolese present was angry, and Lumumba only gave vent to his people's feelings.

Brussels again could not forget Lumumba's dismissal of Belgian officers from the Congolese army, and his subsequent demand for the immediate withdrawal of Belgian troops who had bombarded the port of Matadi on 11 July 1960 after some Europeans had been killed in the town.

Belgian feelings were very much shared by the US government which, itself, was eager to prevent Lumumba from calling on Soviet troops to help him retake the secessionist provinces of Katanga and Southern Kasai which declared unilateral independence on 11 July and 8 August 1960 respectively.

The American president, Dwight D. Eisenhower, had long given the green light for the CIA to plan the elimination of Lumumba, according to Madeleine Kalb in her book, Congo Cables, published by Macmillan in 1982 based on leaked State Department cables.

Kalb wrote that Robert Johnson, a member of the US National Security Council, testifying before the Senate Intelligence Committee in 1975, revealed that during a meeting of the NSC on 18 August 1960, "President Eisenhower said something - I can no longer remember his words - that came across to me as an order for the assassination of Lumumba."

Minutes of the NSC subcommittee on covert operations of August 1960 were more categorical: "It was finally agreed that planning for the Congo would not necessarily rule out 'consideration' of any particular kind of activity which might contribute to getting rid of Lumumba."

On 26 August 1960, says Kalb, Richard Bissell, the CIA special operations chief, asked his special assistant for scientific matters, Dr Sidney Gottlieb to prepare biological materials for possible use in the assassination of an unspecified African leader. Gottlieb arrived in Kinshasa on 26 September but the plan eventually failed.

Gottlieb later told the Senate Intelligence Committee that he had dumped the poison in the Congo River on 5 October, because the CIA station chief in Kinshasa had been unable to find a secure enough agent with the right access to Lumumba, and also because there were concerns about the potency of the poison which should have been put into Lumumba's food or in his toothpaste.

Last year the American author, Adam Hochschild, revealed in his book, King Leopold's Ghost, that President Eisenhower had personally given his approval for the assassination of Lumumba.

According to Hochschild, "Richard Bissell later said: 'The president would have vastly preferred to have him taken care of some way other than by assassination, but he regarded Lumumba as I did, and a lot of other people did, as a mad dog...and he wanted the problem dealt with'. After being arrested and suffering a series of beatings, [Lumumba] was secretly shot in Elisabethville in January 1961. A CIA agent ended up driving around the city with Lumumba's body in his car's trunk, trying to find a place to dispose of it."

Clearly there were two plans running concurrently to eliminate Lumumba, but either the Belgians did not know about the American plan (which is unlikely), or they preferred to do it all alone.

Lumumba's nationalism was too much for the Belgians and their Western allies who considered him a communist. In those Cold War years, Lumumba was seen as a threat to the Belgian, American, French and British companies that controlled Congo's national economy, including the strategic minerals - uranium and cobalt in Katanga; and the copper, diamond and rubber plantations in Southern Kasai.

The Belgian foreign minister at the time, Pierre Wigny, was absolutely unequivocal about his intentions. In a letter dated 10 September 1960, he instructed that "the authorities have the duty to make Lumumba unharmful", De Witte reveals in his new book.

Three days later, the Belgian military adviser to the then Colonel Mobutu, sent this telex to the Belgian African affairs minister, Harold d'Aspremont Lynden: "Plan of action is being examined in Leo [for Leopoldville] with Ileo's government approval."

The "plan" was not cancelled even after Mobutu, fronting for the CIA, staged a coup on 14 September - the very first coup in independent Africa - to "neutralise" the Congolese politicians. Somehow, the Belgians were not confident in Mobutu's ability to keep the situation under control, even though they had contributed 20 million Belgian francs to Mobutu to pay the Congolese soldiers who were on strike for the non-payment of their salaries by the outgoing Belgian colonial government. The payment was meant to strengthen Mobutu's hand as chief of staff.

According to De Witte, Mobutu's Belgian military adviser had prepared an alternative plan called "Operation Barracuda" with another Belgian officer based in Elisabethville, the capital of Katanga, "without the participation of [Mobutu's] government".

The plan envisaged a direct Belgian hit to eliminate Lumumba following instructions contained in a telegram sent on 6 October 1960 to the Belgian consulates in Brazzaville and Elisabethville, in which the African affairs minister, d'Aspremont Lynden, had written: "The main objective to be pursued in the interest of Congo, Katanga and Belgium is obviously Lumumba's definitive elimination."

Until the end of October, says De Witte, Belgian diplomats were still debating the need to organise a direct commando operation on Lumumba's residence which was protected by Ghanaian UN troops and surrounded by Mobutu's soldiers under instructions to arrest him.

Lumumba was under house arrest at the time and was feeling powerless by the hour. He desperately wanted to end his isolation. To compound his misery, the UN General Assembly under American direction had rejected his delegation, and instead given the Congolese seat to Kasavubu's delegation. It was a bit much for the beleaguered prime minister.

"On the night of 27 November, while a thunderstorm raged over Leopoldville, Lumumba slipped past the double ring of UN and Mobutu troops guarding his house, and drove away in a dark car with a few friends", writes De Witte. Lumumba's intention was to go to Stanleyville (now Kisangani), then held by his supporters.

American diplomats were the first to react to Lumumba's escape. They alerted Mobutu, and the hunt was on! Four days later, the suspense was over. Lumumba was arrested by Mobutu's soldiers on 2 December at Port Francqui (now Ilebo) on the Kasai River.

According to De Witte, the Ghanaian UN troops based at Port Francqui did not oppose Lumumba's arrest. They were following orders given to them by the Swedish general, Karl von Horn, who himself was obeying instructions from the UN high command in New York not to intervene "to hinder Lumumba's pursuers" or take him into "protective custody."

Lumumba was beaten by Mobutu's troops who transferred him to the Camp Hardy military barracks in Thysville (now Mbanza Ngongo) where he wrote the letter to his wife quoted above.

After his arrest, the plan then shifted from a "direct action" against Lumumba to his "transfer" into the hands of his worst enemies in Southern Kasai or Katanga as suggested on 24 December by the Belgian consul.

But Vandeen Bloock, the Belgian diplomat in Elisabethville objected on the grounds that Belgium could easily be accused of complicity if Lumumba was sent to Elisabethville. Bloock also feared that "an embarrassing prisoner" like Lumumba would further damage Katanga's credibility among the Afro-Asian coalition at the UN. Instead, according to De Witte, Bloock suggested that Lumumba be transferred to Bakwanga, capital of Southern Kasai, whose army was headed by the Belgian colonel, Gillet (nicknamed "Big Kangaroo") but where the Belgian presence was less noticeable.

This idea, says De Witte, was endorsed by Larry Devlin, the CIA chief in Leopoldville, and by Mobutu's government which, though wanting to get rid of Lumumba, yet left the dirty job to be done by others.

From a Belgian perspective, Southern Kasai, led by Albert Kalonji, was a good choice since Kalonji and other Baluba politicians had a grudge to settle with Lumumba over the massacre of more than 1,000 Balubas by Lumumba's troops at Tshibombo, Banzolo and Kasengulu between 24 August and 4 September 1960.

However, there was an inconvenience. The Bakwanga airport was in the hands of Ghanaian troops who could have decided to protect Lumumba, if they had been left free to decide. To solve the problem, the Belgian African affairs minister, d'Aspremont Lynden, sent this telegram to his consul in Elisabethville: "Foreign minister Aspremont urges personally President Tshombe that Lumumba should be transferred as soon as possible to Katanga."

Everybody knew that Lumumba would not survive a transfer to Katanga, says De Witte. But to Katanga, he was sent!

On 31 January 1964, three years after Lumumba's death, Tshombe wrote to Lumumba's friend, President Nkrumah of Ghana, denying any involvement in the assassination. "I have the honour to inform you that I always took great care to avoid being in any way responsible for the tragic death of H.E Patrice Lumumba," Tshombe told Nkrumah. "I think that the time has come to throw full light on the matter, and I can no longer continue to allow myself to be regarded by Africans and indeed the world at large, as guilty of that crime."

But Nkrumah did not believe Tshombe. Because the Ghanaian president had in his possession a copy of a letter written by Tshombe on 13 January 1961 addressed to Justin Bomboko, Lumumba's foreign minister who had defected to his enemies, in which Tshombe had categorically stated: "Mr President [at the time Bomboko was president of the Commissaires Generaux in Leopoldville], following the message just received, we advise you of our agreement to transfer the communist Lumumba immediately to Elisabethville. This must be done secretly. Can you let me know of his arrival with the minimum of delay?"

Nkrumah published a photocopy of the letter in his book, Challenge of the Congo (published in 1967 by Panaf, London).

Lumumba's transfer into the den of his arch-enemies in Katanga was effected on 17 January 1961. He was sent there with two companions, Maurice Mpolo (a minister in Lumumba's government elected from Katanga) and Joseph Okito (deputy president of the Senate).

With their hands tied behind their backs and beaten mercilessly, the three men were shot on the same night. In her book, Congo Cables, Madeleine Kalb says Washington had known since 14 January about the plan to kill Lumumba and his companions but did nothing to prevent it. Tshombe's secessionist government took nearly a month to announce Lumumba's death (on 13 February 1961).

De Witte reveals in his new book that Belgian officers were not only involved in the preparation of the murder plan, they also took part in the final execution. When Lumumba landed at Elisabethville airport, he was immediately taken into custody by officers from Tshombe's Katanga gendamerie. Six Swedish UN soldiers were present when Lumumba was taken away from the airport.

But hours before they were shot, Lumumba and his two companions were transferred to Belgian custody around 10pm, says De Witte. They were driven in a jeep to a place, 50km away from Elisabethville. The driver of the jeep was a Belgian police commissioner. He brought Lumumba, Mpolo and Okito, one after another, to the murder squad commanded by a Belgian captain. The three men were shot. Lumumba was then 36 years old.

Four days after the killings came the final disposal of the bodies. The dirty job fell to the Belgian police commissioner Gerard Soete and his younger brother. Their superiors wanted the three corpses to disappear. Soete and his brother, therefore, cut up the bodies of Lumumba, Mpolo and Okito into small bits and dissolved them in sulphuric acid to obliterate the evidence. The acid was contained in a tank owned by the mining giant, Union Miniere du Haut Katanga.

In a recent interview on Belgian TV, Gerard Soete confessed that he sawed the bodies of Lumumba and his companions, and dumped them in an acid bath. "I am still haunted by this nightmare," he said on TV.

But Soete was not finished. He had one more macabre detail to reveal. He told his shocked national audience that he had kept for many years "as a souvenir" two of Lumumba's teeth which he eventually threw away in the North Sea, between the coasts of Belgium and England.

By the time you read this, the Belgian commission of inquiry may have started its work. Prepare to be shocked even more!