BUTARE, RWANDA -- As rebel mortars crashed about them last week, several Rwandan government soldiers spotted a band of colleagues leaving town in pickup trucks. The soldiers jumped aboard, looking every bit like men fleeing the front line. In fact, they were rushing to the nearest bar. Which they soon found 15 miles to the west, in Gikongoro, where French soldiers were digging trenches and setting up missile bases in hopes of blocking the rebels' inexorable advance across Rwanda.
The military effort was exclusively French. The government Army, which throughout the civil war has preferred to fight behind lines of civilians or local militia, would also leave Gikongoro as quickly as possible. Those staying behind began drinking at first light. Several who claimed to be commandos vowed to "slaughter" any rebels who came to town. But when questioned, only two of the 10 were sober enough to identify the make of their weapons. A young French commando eyed the beer-swilling Rwandans with contempt. "I don't understand what we are doing," he said. "These people have been massacring Tutsis, and now we are being asked to save their backsides." He was not alone. The world looked askance as France strove to block the advance of the rebels, the champions of the half-million Tutsis the Rwandan government butchered this year. Said one British aid worker: "It's like the United Nations rushing to defend Auschwitz from its liberators."
Turnaround. The lightly armed rebels, mainly Tutsis exiled for years in Uganda, vowed to take on the French and their heavy firepower. But there was no fighting. Instead, a 24-hour standoff followed. It was clear that the Rwandan regime's back had been broken and that the French would have to fight the rebels alone. So while sabers rattled, diplomats dickered. The result was a head- spinning deal that over the next few weeks may effectively split the country into a rebel-controlled part and a French-controlled part. The French portion was officially termed a "safe zone" for Hutu refugees; most of the Tutsis are dead. The French also agreed to pull back from part of western Rwanda and from Gisenyi, where members of the government have been hiding in the Meridien hotel. This will give the rebels the chance to secure four fifths of the country, including Ruhengeri, the base for tourists visiting Rwanda's mountain gorillas (which apparently survived the turmoil). In return, the rebels stopped their advance just out of range of French rifles in Gikongoro.
The result: France maintains its influence in Rwanda by cozying up to the new regime and clears the pangs of conscience it suffered over backing the old one. The rebels no longer must fight the government on a wide front but can concentrate on a key northern theater. And the regime that thought it would be saved by France is now being investigated by teams of French soldiers, who are touring the country gathering information on who organized the massacres of Tutsis and Hutu moderates. "We have to be a little subtle," said one member of France's Foreign Legion. "We are now poking around in the secret places of our hosts and losing friends fast. They still have a lot of guns, and I don't think they're going to be happy when they find themselves in the jail."
