Essay: "Hotel Rwanda" and "Beyond the Gates": UN Involvement in the Rwandan Genocide

This essay analyzes the ramifications of the United Nation's involvement in the Rwandan Genocide through the context of the films "Hotel Rwanda" and "Beyond the Gates."

Flowers and an important message "Never Again" placed on top of the mass graves and tombs of 500,000 murdered tutsi tribespeople

In 1994, over the course of 100 days, members of the Hutu ethnic majority in the east-central African nation of Rwanda murdered as many as 800,000 people, mainly consisting of the Tutsi minority. This catastrophe is known as the Rwandan Genocide. The conflict between the dominant Tutsis and the majority Hutus had gone on for centuries, but all tensions spilled over when the country’s Hutu president’s plane was shot down on April 6th, 1994. Almost immediately after, Hutu militia groups, known as the Interahamwe, set up roadblocks and barricades and began slaughtering Tutsis and moderate Hutus without any remorse. Despite being well-aware of the atrocities happening, the international community did virtually nothing to cease the killings.

Throughout the years following the genocide, many films and novels emerged, revisiting the massacres that occurred. A couple of these works include the films Hotel Rwanda, a true story that follows Paul, the manager of a luxury hotel in Kigali, who risks everything to protect over 1,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus by allowing them to take shelter in the hotel; and Beyond the Gates, which reveals the experiences of a Catholic priest and young teacher, both of European descent, along with 2,500 Tutsis who took refuge at the École Technique Officielle, a secondary school in Kigali that also served as a headquarters for United Nations peacekeeping forces.

Both films fundamentally attempt to understand not why genocide occurred, but how the world allowed it to occur. The variety of protagonists in the films allow for the audience to understand the genocide from a range of perspectives— but, across all viewpoints, one common theme emerges: The United Nations, and the international community, ultimately failed Rwanda through lack of action, lack of recognition, and a pervasive lack of interest. Additionally, the films use the experiences of the characters to reveal the complexities of morality when faced with such an incomprehensible event such as genocide. Furthermore, the movies also reveal the inadequacies and faults of Western humanitarianism, and how Africa’s long history of being “othered” has led to international feelings of indifference about the genocide. Finally, despite the exceptional praise that each of the works received, there are problematic implications of each film that are worthy of consideration; for instance, the films include inaccurate or stereotypical depictions of Hutus, Tutsis, and Africans as a whole; they perpetuate the myth that “the minority are always weak, and that they need protection,” as well as omit significant details about the origins of the massacre and overstate the role of particular individuals.

The film Beyond the Gatesprimarily revolves around two characters—the first: Father Christopher (played by John Hurt), a cultivated Catholic priest who has worked in Africa at the École Technique Officielle church for about 30 years. The other: Joe Connor, “a young teacher, political idealist and do-gooder spending a year at the school.” (Holden, 2007) During the genocide, about 2,500 Tutsis take refuge at the school while United Nations Peacekeeping forces guarded the surroundings. When the troops eventually withdrawal from the country, Father Christopher and Joe Connor are faced with the moral dilemma of whether or not they should stay with the people they have bonded with, or flee with the troops, leaving the 2,500 refugees left behind to fend for themselves. Through these interesting and unconventional perspectives, audiences are able to get a glimpse into the complexities of morality, and humanity itself, when faced with such an incomprehensible event a genocide. Throughout the film, two central questions are addressed: “why the West sat back as the catastrophe unfolded?” and “What is true faith, and how much horror does it take to erode it? Can a reasonable person still believe in God amid the slaughter of 800,000 people? Does reason have anything to do with it?” (Holden, 2007) These questions are “channeled through the consciences” of the protagonists, along with the experiences of peripheral characters. The film, in turn, becomes an evaluation of faith versus altruism in the face of genocide.

Joe Connor, in a sense, embodies modern-day humanitarianism—“the naïvete, powerlessness, and eventual malfeasance of the European ‘project.’” (Fuchs, 2007) Joe’s perspective allows the audience to witness “the emergence of the horrors through his eyes, as he discovers them…we watch his view of the world plunge and his idealisms shatter as the genocide begins to reveal itself to him.” (Brunton, 2008) In doing so, the escalation of, and the scale and horror of the genocide seem all too real—as if we are along side Joe all through the carnage. Furthermore, when asked why he came to Rwanda, he replies “Growing up, I had everything a kid could want, and it’s just me trying to say thank you I guess… trying to make a difference.” He goes on to say, I catch myself thinking ‘well done, Joe. You’re really doing it’… then there’s this.” It is evident that in this moment, Joe is beginning to realize that however honorable or altruistic his intentions might be, that his presence in Rwanda is not making any significant contributions—additionally, he reveals how ignorance, privilege, and notion’s of “white man’s burden” came into play when he decided to “make a difference” in Africa. Ultimately, Joe is confronted with the utmost moral dilemma when he is given the option of leaving Rwanda with the UN troops, or staying, and most likely dying, with the people that he came to help in the first place. In the end, Joe decides to leave because he was “afraid to die.” His decision conclusively represents those of the United Nations—deciding that their own lives were not worth sacrificing for the lives of Africans. Through Joe’s experiences and epiphanies, Western audiences are compelled to confront their own perceptions, self-interests, and intentions when it comes to Africa and humanitarianism.

Moreover, Joe’s experiences help the audience to further understand how Africa’s long history of being “othered” has led to international feelings of indifference about the genocide. He receives a devastating wake-up call through a conversation with Rachel, a BBC reporter who further concretizes the “us” and “them” narrative. This narrative has stemmed all the way from colonization, inaccurate or racist media portrayals of Africans, and beliefs of white-supremacy. After being exposed to brutal acts of murder, countless hacked up bodies, as well as bloody children’s bodies, Rachel“confesses her own racism even as she seems amazed at herself. She remembers that ‘last year,’ in Bosnia, she feels her journalism was ‘great,’ even as she ‘cried every day.’ As she tells Joe, ‘Every time I saw a dead Bosnian woman, a white woman, I thought, ‘That could be my mom.’ Over here, they’re just dead Africans.’ She pauses, then adds, ‘What a thing to say. We’re all just selfish pieces of work in the end.’” (Fuchs, 2007) Rachel’s experiences parallel those of the United Nations and the international community— For example, in the research article titled “Film representations of the Rwandan genocide,” it reveals how “…western countries reached a consensus to isolate Rwanda politically by viewing the country as the ‘undeserving other’…permanent members of the UN Security must have considered that no one should get involved in a small country in black Africa that nobody is interested in.” (Rwafa 391)

These ideas are further emphasized in the journal “The UN Security Council, Indifference and Genocide in Rwanda” in which former UN bureaucrat Michael Barnett recounts his experiences when dealing with the genocide in Rwanda. In the article, he discusses the reasons behind the indifference towards the genocide shown by the “international community.” In this discussion, Barnett states, “Compactly expressed indifference is a rejection of those who are different… Bureaucrats use identity to determine who will receive their attention and who will not, and for national bureaucracies, the most straight forward marker is citizenship” (Barnett 563). This further reinforces the idea of “otherness” and how it affects one’s capacity for empathy towards an individual or a group of people, and how the disparity between Africans and primarily western nations impacted the United Nation’s attention/concern towards the Rwandan Genocide. Furthermore, Barnett states that “The traditional view offered by the international relations scholars is that states pursue their “security interests,” and thus no matter how grieved member states were by the genocide in Rwanda, they were unwilling to commit money and manpower to any operation because it remained outside their interests.” (Barnett 562) This statement belittles the idea that intervening in genocide and humanitarianism is a moral obligation. Rather, he reinforces Rachel’s idea that “We’re all just selfish pieces of work in the end,” and many humanitarianism operations stem from goals of self-interest.

The second Protagonist in Beyond the Gates, is Father Christopher. In the film, Father Christopher represents, basically, the ultimate moral figure-- he symbolizes faith and hope. However, as the atrocities of genocide progress, the audience is able to see his faith in goodness weaken and his disgust in humanity grow. We especially see this in a stirring scene in which the original title “Shooting Dogs” originated from. “Charles asks Christopher to explain to the folks assembled at the school that the U.N. troops will be ‘shooting dogs’ who have gathered just outside the school gate, as they are ripping at bodies left there and causing a ruckus. Charles wants the people inside the gates not to be alarmed at the gunfire. Christopher is appalled, as he’s just returned from an excursion to a nearby convent and found all the nuns raped and slaughtered. How can the Belgians shoot the dogs but not take on the Hutus? ‘Were [the dogs] shooting at you?’ he snarls. ‘According to your mandate, if you’re going to shoot the dogs, the dogs must have been shooting at you first.” (Fuchs 2007) Father Christopher’s deprecation of faith and growing infuriation is a powerful representation of how horrific and incomprehensible genocide is. Additionally, this represents the irony of the United Nations & how they are meant to help victims of war, but actually many times ineffective and sometimes counter-productive.

In the end, Father Christopher is met with the same moral dilemma as Joe; however, Father Christopher decides to stay behind with the Rwandans because “God’s heart is here; it’s in my soul—and if I leave, I may not ever find it again.” He goes on to risk his life for several refugee children while trying to sneak them across Interhawmbe barricades. Wilson Gabo, a coordinator of Rwanda's Survivors Fund charity, criticizes Father Christopher’s role by saying "There was never a situation, not at that school or anywhere, where a white person refused to be evacuated. That is a pure lie." (Goldenberg 2007) David Belton, who worked as a BBC reporter in Rwanda during the genocide contends that Father Christopher’s character is supposedly based on the experiences of Vjekoslav "Vjeko" Ćurić, a Bosnian Croat Roman Catholic friar and humanitarian—who saved many lives, including his. Despite what is true, this is important to note, because it reveals the how overlooked/abandoned that those suffering in Rwanda felt; and how there was an obvious lack of presence of international intervention and concern. Furthermore, it reveals the racist agenda of the peacekeepers—only people with white skin were able to evacuate the carnage.

As mentioned previously, the protagonist of Hotel Rwandais Paul Rusesabagina, the manager of a four-star hotel in Kigali. Because Paul’s occupation included making business dealings with Rwandan and foreign elite, including top figures in the Interhamwe and the Rwandan army, we are able to get a closer look into the motives and thought-processes of Hutu militia before the genocide officially occurs. It is also important to note that Paul is a Hutu and has a Tutsi wife, which makes their children “mixed.” The irony, though, as the film explains, is that the “distinction is largely artificial;” it began as a class distinction; Tutsi were sheep/cattle herders while Hutus were farmers. Then, “when Rwanda was a Belgian colony, the populace was divided into two categories, with those who looked more "European"--lighter skin, narrower noses, etc.--being dubbed Tutsi and the rest Hutu.” (Orr, 2005) Paul recognizes the superficiality of these distinctions and is disturbed by the malicious propaganda about Tutsis being broadcasted over the radio, but is convinced that it will blow over.

Paul’s exposure to both ethnicities, as well as his neutrality towards the ethnic conflict, allows for the viewer to better understand the perspectives of both Hutus and Tutsis. For instance, the audience is able to see how nonchalant and proud the Interahamwe and some local politicians were about about the impending genocide during a meeting between Rusesabagina and George Rutaganda who is the leader of the Interahamwe militia. “Rutaganda has monopolised the business of supplying beer to the Hotel Des Mille Collines but, during the discussions, a crate which falls from a fork-lift opens to reveal brand-new machetes to be used to carry out the genocide. Rutaganda comments matter-of-factly that, ‘They are from China’” (Rwafa 394).

Furthermore, during a one-on-one conversation with Paul and a “good-hearted” U.N. colonel, the colonel makes it clear as to why the western world does not want to intervene in the genocide—he states “We think you are dirt, less than dirt, worthless… you’re fucking black! You’re not even a nigger, you’re African.” This powerful scene exhibits the the racist motives that are said to have prevented the United Nations from caring about the tons of people who were losing their lives in the genocide. In another scene, “When the UN trucks finally arrive at Mille Collines, the Tutsi and moderate Hutu refugees are surprised to hear the UN representative saying: ‘No Rwandans. Foreigners only’. In an emotionally captivating scene, Rwandans struggle to get into the UN trucks but they are pushed back to make way for white foreigners” In another instance, we see the indifference and irony of the United Nations through the infamous quote: “Our job is not to enforce peace, just to monitor it.” We hear a statement similar to this in Beyond the Gatesas well. In both films, the rhetoric of genocide is brought up. InHotel Rwanda, we are prompted the question: “How many acts of genocide does it take to make a genocide?” and in Beyond the Gates, Sarah, the BBC reporter confronts the UN peacekeeping commander by saying, “Some people are starting to call this a genocide. Would you call it that? Because you know, if it is one, you’d be obligated to intervene.” The commander ignores the question. “Despite the fact that a genocide was occurring in Rwanda, the UN and the International Community refrained from using the word ‘genocide’ to describe the mass killings that were taking place there. Chaon (2007) and Pottier (2002) point out that using the term ‘genocide’ would have forced the UN and the international community to act as stipulated by the UN convention of 1951.” (Rwafa 391) This, again, represents how the international community failed to recognize the genocide for what it was in order to defend their reputation and their decision to not get involved. However, it is important to remember that many of the peacekeepers who were actually stationed in Rwanda were complex characters themselves, and were faced with a moral dilemma of their own: they are torn between what they believe as human being and what they are ordered to do.

Many people suggest that the theme of Hotel Rwandais that one person can single-handedly make a difference—but another theme could be the importance of recognizing privilege and using it to benefit those who may be oppressed. Throughout the film, Paul is faced with multiple moral dilemmas in which he almost always is able to use his privileges to make the “right” decision. Nevertheless, these situations reveal the difficulties of choosing the moral decision over the “selfish” decision when your life is in question. “When things were at their worst in Rwanda, it was clear that Rusesabagina would eschew the privilege of his Hutu ethnicity, identifying instead with his Tutsi neighbors and feeling a sort of solidarity with them…his experiences made him quite a different person from anyone who might have been tempted to make an arrangement to save himself and his family at the expense of others,” (Kohen 2008) referring to a scene in the film where Paul is given the opportunity to save his family as long as all of the other Tutsis that they were with would be killed. Instead, Paul bribes the Interahamwe with all of his money, jewelry, etc. Paul’s perspective that “the kind of life that one lives becomes far more important than the length of that life” is projected onto viewers, and in turn, audiences are able to see that morality, integrity, and values can still exist in the face of a massacre such as this one.

Despite the awards and praise that Hotel Rwandahas received, there are many criticisms that have come about. For instance, “whenHotel Rwandapresents its hero Paul Rusesabagina, who is a Hutu, the film is saying that there were those brave men and women who risked their lives to save people who could have easily fallen victim to the machete blows of the Interahamwe. But Adhikari (2007) argues that by giving prominence to the exploits of a single person, Hotel Rwandaadopts a Hollywood style that worships individual heroism at the expense of collective effort.” (Rwafa 395) In other words, when the film emphasises individual exploits, it undermines and leaves out the unacknowledged people who prevented the deaths of their Tutsi and moderate Hutu neighbors during the genocide. Additionally, it projects a “needle in the haystack” connotation where Paul is the “good Hutu” out of all the other Hutus who does the “unexpected” and treats others with respect and decency.

Furthermore, in both Hotel Rwanda and Beyond the Gates, this is a “dominant narrative in which Tutsi are depicted as perpetual victims and Hutu as aggressors,” when in actuality, not all Hutus were evil and not all Tutsis were saints. “Hotel Rwanda (2004) constructs Africa through the Conradian trope of the monstrous and the spectacular that promotes an exceptionalist narrative to Rwanda genocide. This exceptionalist syndrome is found in the image of Hutu versus Tutsi binary which does not explain the harsh realities of the genocide that produced villains, victims and heroes out of the ordinary people.” (Rwafa 395) Furthermore, the films perpetuate the myth that the minority are always weak and need “protection”—in the case of these films, the protection came in the form of a white, Catholic priest, The United Nations, and a Hutu. Although assistance from these people are appreciated, this portrayal of Tutsis in the film undermines that fact that it was the Rwandan Patriotic Front, which was made up of mostly Tutsis, that ended the genocide. Lastly, there were many significant details and background information left out of the films that were necessary in understanding first-- what led up to the genocide, and second-- how it was much more complex than just an ethnic conflict.

Both films did a successful job in portraying the seriousness of the events and the atrocities that occurred. They also displayed the extent of just how indifferent and neglectful the United Nations and the international community was towards the whole situation in Rwanda. Furthermore, the films did a powerful job in pushing the audience to reflect upon themselves and their morality through the experiences and instances of self-actualization that the characters underwent. Lastly, the films aided in the ongoing issue of not being able to sufficiently empathize with “others”.