Music and the Rwandan Genocide

Between April and July 1994, up to one million Tutsis and moderate Hutus were murdered during the Rwandan Genocide. Music played a central role in both enabling and responding to this catastrophe, serving as a weapon of propaganda, a tool of resistance, and a means of cultural documentation. The strategic use of popular songs, radio broadcasts, and traditional musical forms demonstrates how artistic expression can become deeply entangled with political violence and social transformation.

Radio as a Platform for Musical Propaganda

Radio-Television Libre des Milles Collines (RTLM) - nicknamed "Radio Genocide" - emerged as the primary vehicle for musical propaganda during the Rwandan genocide. Established by wealthy Hutu extremists, RTLM operated as an informal call-in talk show that combined sensationalized news, comedy, and music from both Rwanda and abroad, including American popular songs. The station's approach created what researchers describe as a "virtual community" that felt like casual conversations among friends, making extremist content more socially acceptable.

RTLM broadcast lists of Tutsis and Hutu moderates to be killed, provided information on where and how to kill people, and continued spreading anti-Tutsi propaganda throughout the genocide. The station played music that 'militiamen could dance to as they killed', and appeals to attack enemies were often preceded or followed by specific songs. Messages instructed listeners to "search for cockroaches – make sure you find them," using dehumanizing language that had become normalized through repeated broadcast.

Before April 1994, RTLM had already begun sending messages about how Hutus must protect themselves against "snakes" and "cockroaches," terms referring to Tutsis. When President Habyarimana's plane was shot down on April 6, 1994, RTLM immediately blamed the "cockroaches" for the attack, intensifying the atmosphere of desperation and violence.

Simon Bikindi and the Weaponization of Popular Music

Simon Bikindi, Rwanda's most popular recording artist before the genocide, became central to the musical dimension of the genocide. His prominence extended beyond individual performance—he directed the Irindiro Ballet, a company that blended traditional music and dance, and was a founder of RTLM itself. Members of his ballet company were recruited into the Interahamwe militia and participated in killing Tutsis.

Three of Bikindi's political songs became particularly significant in the genocide:

• "Twasezereye ngoma ya cyami" ("We Bade Farewell to the Drums of the Monarchy") was originally composed in 1987 to commemorate Rwanda's independence, praising the end of colonial and monarchical rule. However, when re-released in 1993 during peace negotiations, it was co-opted to focus dissent against the Arusha peace plan. The song transformed from simple political commentary to what prosecutors later described as "a demonstrable element of a consciously deployed call to genocide."
• "Nanga abahutu" ("I Hate These Hutu") targeted moderate Hutus who supported coexistence with Tutsis. The lyrics stated: "I hate these Hutus, these de-Hutuized Hutus, who have renounced their identity... And if I hate them, so much the better." The song employed traditional Kinyarwanda poetic techniques that deliberately obscured meaning, forcing listeners to engage in deep interpretation of the coded messages.
• "Intabaza"/"Bene sebahinzi" ("Brothers and Sisters of the Farmer") depicted apocalyptic visions of war between farmers (representing Hutus) and cattle breeders (representing Tutsis), warning of treacherous infiltrators disguised as ordinary citizens.

These compositions skillfully wove together historical narratives, cultural symbols, and coded language that demonized Tutsis while valorizing Hutu identity. Bikindi's use of traditional proverbs, local place names, and historical references created powerful emotional connections that made genocidal ideology appear rooted in authentic Rwandan culture.

RTLM's broadcasts included Western popular music alongside local content, creating what researchers identify as a form of cultural legitimization. American songs like Heavy D's "Now That We Found Love" played during genocidal broadcasts, with analysts arguing that this "Western" music served to normalize extremist messages by associating them with perceived American cultural and moral authority.

This combination of local musical traditions with global popular culture created what one researcher describes as a "deadly synthesis" that transformed extreme rhetoric into seemingly normal social discourse.

Legal Consequences and International Response

In 2005, Simon Bikindi became the first musician since Nazi conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler to face war crimes charges. The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda charged him with incitement to genocide, among other offenses. The prosecution argued that Bikindi's music was "an essential component in the genocide plan" because it incited ethnic hatred against Tutsis.

The prosecution noted that Bikindi was a shareholder in RTLM and that his failure to request the station stop playing his songs—which he could have done under Rwandan copyright law—constituted endorsement of the station's genocidal agenda. He also performed his compositions at Interahamwe militia rallies, which prosecutors argued served as recruitment tools.

Bikindi's defense maintained that his songs were patriotic expressions of Hutu solidarity during wartime and had been taken out of context. In 2008, he was sentenced to 15 years in prison, though notably for a rallying speech rather than for his songs directly. The tribunal found insufficient evidence that he composed the songs with specific genocidal intent, while acknowledging that the music "advocated Hutu unity against a common foe and incited ethnic hatred."

The case established important legal precedents regarding artistic responsibility and the potential for music to constitute direct incitement to genocide. Belgian RTLM presenter Georges Ruggiu was also sentenced to 12 years for incitement to commit genocide.

Music as Resistance and Documentation

While music served as a weapon of genocide, it also functioned as a form of resistance and documentation for survivors. The period following the 1994 violence reveals complex processes through which musicians and communities negotiated trauma, memory, and cultural identity through musical expression.

Olivier Nzaramba, a singer-songwriter whose family was hidden by a Hutu perpetrator during the genocide, wrote the song "Inanga" with his siblings to symbolize their faith in survival. The words of Psalm 27 provided hope during their hiding, and their musical response became a form of spiritual resistance that transformed religious text into personal survival narrative.

Jean-Paul Samputu, a prominent Tutsi musician who survived by fleeing to Burundi and Uganda, lost his parents, three brothers, and one sister to the genocide. His father's murderer was his best friend. Samputu uses his music, including the song "No More Genocide," to advocate for forgiveness and reconciliation, singing in both Kinyarwanda and English. His work demonstrates how survivors employed music not merely as artistic expression but as active intervention in Rwanda's reconstruction discourse.

The musical landscape that emerged involved careful processes of cultural negotiation that went far beyond individual artistic expression. Research on the revival of Orchestre Impala, perhaps the most popular musical group of the late 1970s and 1980s, reveals how communities collectively worked to reconstruct cultural identity while navigating the sensitivities of Rwanda's transformed social environment.

The careful and highly selective acts of cultural revival merit closer attention, given the sensitivity of a society recovering from mass violence. Musicians faced the delicate task of determining which elements of pre-genocide culture could be safely revived and which needed to be abandoned or transformed. This process involved what researchers describe as "selective recovery" of past songs alongside creation of new material, all unified by their association with a musical genre known as igisope.

The revival of pre-genocide musical groups such as Orchestre Impala, which was popular in the late 1970s and 1980s, is a complex process involving the negotiation of cultural memory. This process involves the careful and deliberate selection of songs from the past, alongside the creation of new material. This reflects what researchers describe as the potential 'normalisation' of culture, and a sense of continuity in Rwanda. The revival of Orchestre Impala shows how musical groups became a way of negotiating shared cultural identities across the ethnic divisions that were exploited during the genocide. The band's popularity stems from what researchers identify as 'shared social imaginaries across generations of Rwandans', suggesting that music provides a framework for imagining a unified national identity.

Music as Historical Commentary and Memory Work

Songs from the reconstruction period served as historical commentaries, providing insights into the political and social changes that occurred during and after the violence. Musicians created works that helped communities navigate the transition from shock to mourning, using artistic expression to make sense of the destruction of social bonds caused by the genocide.

The biographical experiences of iconic singers who composed music before and after the genocide reveal how it fundamentally altered their artistic interests and creative expression. Songs became a means of understanding trauma that, in many cases, was 'inaccessible to the intellect', providing emotional and cultural frameworks for processing incomprehensible violence.

Music from this era also reveals the complex relationship between individual and community-level experiences of trauma and official government narratives of reconciliation. While the new government urged citizens to embrace forgiveness and unity, songs from this period demonstrate the ambiguity that many Rwandans felt about these official calls for reconciliation.

Musicians found themselves caught between their own experiences of loss and trauma, the community's desire for cultural continuity and the state's expectation of national unity. This negotiation process involved overt and subtle forms of resistance to official discourse, with music providing a relatively safe space in which to express complex emotions that could not be articulated directly through political speech.

The years following 1994 demonstrate how music preserved cultural continuity while also marking significant departures from the past. Research suggests that the revival of music helped generate elements of cultural continuity in Rwanda's artistic landscape, while acknowledging that certain aspects of pre-genocide culture could not be restored unchanged.

For musical groups, the need to survive commercially meant that they retained some elements of the past in their repertoire, such as political praise songs. This demonstrates the influence of economic pressures on cultural transformation. It also illustrates the complex interplay between artistic vision, community needs, economic survival, and political constraints in cultural production following mass violence. The contemporary musical landscape reveals ongoing tensions around memory, forgiveness, and reconciliation. Songs from this period show the ambiguity many Rwandans feel about official calls for unity, despite government exhortations to embrace reconciliation.

Cultural and Legal Implications

The Rwandan case demonstrates how music can become a sophisticated propaganda tool that makes violence appear ordinary by embedding genocidal ideology within familiar cultural forms. The strategic use of traditional musical elements, combined with modern broadcasting technology, created powerful mechanisms for social control and incitement.

The case raises critical questions about artistic responsibility and the circumstances under which creative expression becomes criminal incitement. Legal scholars note that changing social environments, rather than original artistic intention, can create new meanings within musical works. The vulnerability of listeners to musical influence during periods of political and social tension highlights music's dangerous potential to intensify ethnic hatred.

International warnings about RTLM's broadcasts were largely ignored during the genocide, with officials dismissing the station's content as unworthy of serious concern. This response underscores the need for greater understanding of how popular culture can facilitate political violence.

The Rwandan Genocide demonstrates that music, far from being politically neutral entertainment, can serve as both a weapon of destruction and a tool of survival. The legal precedents established through prosecutions of musicians and broadcasters continue to influence international criminal law and debates about the limits of artistic freedom in contexts of mass violence.

Sources

Rwanda a Song Sheet - Holocaust Memorial Day Trust

Mccoy, Jason. Making Violence Ordinary: Radio, Music And The Rwandan Genocide, [link]

Chemouni, Benjamin. Singing the Unspeakable in Rwanda in the Summer of 1994: Music in the Context of the Genocidal Abyss through a Portrait of the Artists, Université Catholique de Louvain (UCLouvain) Assumpta Mugiraneza (IRIBA Center for Multimedia Heritage)

Snyder, Robert H. "Disillusioned Words Like Bullets Bark":' Incitement To Genocide, Music, And The Trial Of Simon Bikindi, University of Georgia, 1999.