When former US Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs Tibor Nagy publicly admitted that supporting Félix Tshisekedi in the disputed 2018 Congolese election was “one of my greatest regrets,” it sounded like an overdue confession. Nagy, who once believed Tshisekedi would break from the corruption, manipulation, and political survival culture that dominated Congo’s politics for decades, now openly says he was wrong.
His statement comes at a time when Tshisekedi is hinting at the possibility of staying in power beyond the constitutional two-term limit, while also warning that the ongoing war in eastern Congo could prevent elections from taking place in 2028.
For many Congolese, this wasn’t a surprise. It sounded familiar. Mobutu postponed elections scheduled for 1992, and by 1996 when the AFDL rebellion broke out, he still hadn’t held them. Joseph Kabila dragged his feet for two years, holding elections in 2018 that were initially scheduled for 2016. Why would it be different now?
Tshisekedi grabbed power through unconstitutional means. He purported to deliver reforms in the leadership of the conflict-torn country, positioning himself as a democratic figure promising to restore dignity to a nation exhausted by years of political deals and elite betrayal. International partners embraced him quickly, despite widespread controversy surrounding the 2018 election results. Western governments, especially the United States, preferred stability over truth and helped present Tshisekedi as the face of a “new Congo.”
Years later, the illusion is collapsing. Today, the same man who promised democratic renewal is speaking about constitutional changes and referendums that could extend his rule. Just like other failed rulers, Tshisekedi could not declare himself a dictator at first. Today, he speaks about “the will of the people,” “national unity,” or “security challenges.” Step by step, the Congolese constitution becomes flexible, elections become uncertain, and power becomes permanent.
Even more troubling is Tshisekedi’s suggestion that war in eastern Congo could justify delaying elections. With violence continuing in North and South Kivu, critics say insecurity is slowly becoming a political tool. For Tshisekedi, continued war means a continued grip on power.
Tibor Nagy’s regret may be late, but it confirms what many Congolese and other foreign diplomats have been saying for years, some openly, others behind closed doors: the international community helped market hope, but Congo received another politician determined to protect power before protecting the people.