Latest / The History of Belgium: A Small Country with a Giant Colonial Legacy — Fexingo History / The 1944 Luluabourg Mutiny: Congolese Soldiers vs Belgian Authority
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about resistance in the Belgian Congo — the Pende revolts, the Bena-Dibele uprising, the Force Publique mutinies of the 1890s. But there's one revolt that doesn't get nearly enough attention, and it happened much later, during World War Two. Luna: You mean the 1944 Luluabourg mutiny? Lucas: Exactly. February 1944, in what's now Kananga in the Kasai region. And it's fascinating because it wasn't about rubber or forced cotton — it was about the everyday humiliations of life in a colonial army during wartime. The Force Publique had been fighting in Ethiopia and Burma for Belgium, but back home, Congolese soldiers were still being treated like second-class troops. Luna: They were fighting overseas but couldn't even become officers? Lucas: That was the core of it. In the Force Publique, no matter how long you served or how competent you were, the highest rank a Congolese soldier could reach was sergeant-major. All officers were white Belgians. And on top of that, their pay had been frozen since 1920, while inflation during the war made basic goods unaffordable. The rations they got were terrible — mostly cassava and a bit of fish, while Belgian officers got meat and wine. Luna: If today was actually useful to you, the way these stay ad-free is listener support — buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Lucas: Right, and it really helps keep these conversations going. So anyway, the spark came in early February 1944, when a soldier named Sergeant-Major Kabamba, who had served in the Force Publique for years, led a protest over the quality of the rations. The soldiers were being given what they called 'tin fish' — rotten preserves — and they refused to eat. Luna: What happened then? Lucas: The Belgian commander ordered Kabamba and several others arrested. That's when the mutiny exploded. On the night of February 12, about 200 soldiers armed themselves and took control of the Luluabourg garrison. They freed Kabamba from the guardhouse, locked up the Belgian officers, and held the camp for two days. They even cut the telegraph wires to prevent news from spreading. Luna: They held the camp for two days? That's a serious takeover. Lucas: It was. The mutineers put forward a list of demands: better food, higher pay, and — crucially — the right for Congolese soldiers to become officers. They wanted real equality in the Force Publique. The Belgian authorities were caught off guard. The local commander, Lieutenant-Colonel Van der Mersch, tried to negotiate, but the soldiers weren't backing down. Luna: So how did the Belgians regain control? Lucas: They brought in reinforcements from elsewhere — troops loyal to the administration, including a unit of white soldiers from Léopoldville. On February 14, they stormed the camp. The fighting was brief but intense. About 30 mutineers were killed, and many more were wounded. Kabamba himself was captured and later executed. Luna: Were there any long-term changes? Lucas: Not really. The Belgian response was pure punishment. Of the mutineers who survived, dozens were sentenced to hard labour or prison terms. The issue of officer promotion was completely ignored. In fact, the Force Publique remained segregated until independence. But the mutiny did send a signal — that even the most loyal Congolese soldiers were fed up with the racial hierarchy. Luna: It's interesting how this connects to the later independence movement. Were any of the mutineers involved in politics afterward? Lucas: Some of the soldiers who were transferred or discharged after the mutiny became active in the early nationalist circles. For example, a few ended up in the ABAKO party or the MNC. But for the most part, the mutiny was a military affair, not a political one. The demands were about equality within the army, not about independence. Still, it showed that the colonial system was fraying at the edges. Luna: And it's a reminder that resistance came in many forms — not just the big uprisings, but also these smaller, desperate acts. Lucas: Exactly. The Luluabourg mutiny is often overshadowed by the 1959 Léopoldville riots or the 1960 mutiny of the Force Publique after independence, but it's a crucial moment. It tells us that even during the war, when Belgium was supposedly united against fascism, the contradictions of colonial rule were impossible to ignore. Luna: So what happened to the survivors of the mutiny? Did any of them live to see independence? Lucas: A few did. Some were released from prison in the 1950s, and they returned to their villages as quiet symbols of defiance. But most of the mutineers died in obscurity. The Belgians made sure their story didn't get told. There's no monument to them in Kananga, no official recognition. The history was buried. Luna: That's heartbreaking — but it's also why we're telling it now. Lucas: Yeah, I think so. These are the threads that, if you pull them, reveal the whole fabric of colonial rule. The Force Publique was supposed to be a loyal, disciplined force, but it was built on a foundation of inequality. And when that foundation cracked, even a little, the whole structure shook. Luna: I'm glad we finally covered this. It feels like a missing piece. Lucas: Absolutely. And it connects to so much else — the later mutinies, the political awakening, the fact that the first Congolese officers were only commissioned in 1960, just weeks before independence. The Luluabourg mutiny was a warning that went unheeded. Luna: Well, thanks for digging into it. I think our listeners will appreciate this. Lucas: Me too. And if you want to explore more, there's a great book by a historian named Jules Gérard-Libois that covers the Force Publique in detail. It's called 'Le Congo 1959-1960', and it's one of the few sources that mentions the 1944 mutiny. Luna: I'll have to check that out. Alright, until next time. Lucas: Take care, Luna.