Beyond the Signatures: Unpacking the Washington Accords for Peace and Prosperity in the Great Lakes
- Koyo Koga
- 3 days ago
- 13 min read

On June 27, 2025, the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and the Republic of Rwanda signed an agreement in Washington, D.C., under the mediation and sponsorship of the United States of America and Qatar. It was officially ratified on December 6, 2025, in Washington, D.C. The Accord, officially titled the 2025 Democratic Republic of the Congo–Rwanda peace agreement, but widely dubbed the “Washington Accord,” marks what its proponents call a watershed moment in the decades-long conflict rooted in the aftermath of the 1994 Rwandan genocide and subsequent cycles of violence in the eastern DRC.
The deal aims to end hostilities, withdraw Rwandan forces from the DRC, neutralize non-state armed groups linked to the conflict, and set in motion a regional economic integration framework centered on the DRC’s mineral wealth with explicit provision for U.S. investment. While some have hailed the Washington Accord as a step towards peace and stability, it has also drawn sharp criticism, not only for its feasibility. There are growing concerns across Africa that the Accord represents an intensely transactional arrangement, serving America’s strategic and economic interests more than African sovereignty or long-term regional stability.
To understand the significance and controversy of the Washington Accord, one must revisit the history of conflict, resource exploitation, and foreign involvement in the Great Lakes region of Africa. The long-running instability between Rwanda and the DRC has roots in the aftermath of the 1994 Rwandan genocide. After the genocide, many Hutu militias and civilians, including those implicated in genocide crimes, fled into Eastern Congo, fearing reprisals. Over time, some of these groups evolved into rebel militias operating in Eastern DRC, including organizations such as the Forces Démocratiques de Libération du Rwanda (FDLR). Meanwhile, successive Rwandan governments, led by the current ruling class, viewed these militias as existential threats to Rwanda’s security. Efforts to reconcile the resulting tensions have repeatedly failed. The complex tapestry of ethnic fear, militia activity, state security, and regional power politics has made lasting peace elusive. The Eastern DRC remains home to more than 100 armed groups, making it one of the most unstable and violent regions on the continent.
Compounding the conflict is the fact that Eastern Congo and the DRC at large sit on extraordinary mineral wealth. It’s among the richest sources in the world for critical minerals such as cobalt, coltan (columbite-tantalite), copper, lithium, and other resources essential for modern technologies ranging from smartphones to electric vehicle batteries. These resources have long attracted external powers and multinational corporations, but their extraction has often been drenched in violence, exploitation, and human rights abuses.
Armed groups have used control over mines and mineral-rich territories to fund militias, fuel conflict, and profit from illicit trade. Meanwhile, state actors and foreign interests have been accused of compounding exploitation under the guise of “security” and “development.” In recent years, the global demand for cobalt and other critical minerals, primarily driven by the green energy transition and the rise of electric vehicles, has increased the strategic value of the DRC’s mineral reserves. Broader geopolitical competition, especially between the U.S. and other global powers such as China, has turned the Great Lakes region into a contested ground for influence and control.
Over the decades, multiple peace initiatives have been attempted, often mediated by African countries or regional bodies. Neighboring states, African organizations, or United Nations-backed missions have convened regional integration efforts, security pacts, and multilateral talks. But despite frequent declarations and ceasefire deals, enduring peace has always remained elusive. The repeated failures have frustrated many observers who argue that Western-led interventions, resource opportunism, and lack of local ownership have undermined genuine reconciliation. It is in this context of long-standing conflict, rich resources, and a history of failed peace efforts that the 2025 Washington Accord emerges, bringing both hope and profound skepticism.
According to the official text of the 2025 Democratic Republic of the Congo–Rwanda peace agreement, the parties reaffirm their commitment to sovereignty, territorial integrity, and peaceful resolution of disputes. They commit to the withdrawal of all Rwandan troops from eastern DRC, initially slated within 90 days. The agreement calls for the disarmament and conditional reintegration of non-state armed groups, such as militias, intending to end support to groups such as FDLR (and by implication, limit proxy war dynamics). It establishes a joint security coordination mechanism to oversee withdrawals and disarmament processes within 30 days. It sets up a “regional economic integration framework,” geared towards formalizing mineral trade, opening pathways for U.S. investors, and integrating mining sectors in the two countries under regulated legal structures. Politically, this represents a formal end, at least on paper, to decades of official hostilities between two neighboring states whose relationship has been defined by mutual distrust, cross-border militia activity, and competition over influence in the Great Lakes.
The Accord was brokered by the United States, with the involvement of U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio and the mediation of business-diplomat Massad Boulos, alongside Qatari facilitation. The U.S. authorities have framed the deal not only as a humanitarian and peacebuilding endeavour but as a strategic opportunity for the U.S. to secure access to the DRC’s critical minerals. According to statements made at the signing, particularly by American President Donald Trump, the U.S. expects to obtain “a lot of the mineral rights from the Congo,” thereby potentially reducing its reliance on China in global supply chains. In launching a “phased regional economic integration framework,” the Accord offers a legal and institutional pathway for U.S. businesses to invest in mining and mineral export sectors in both countries. This implies a significant recalibration of the balance of economic interests in the Great Lakes region, one in which the U.S., long an external actor in Africa’s politics, now seeks deeper, structural entanglement through natural-resource supply chains.
While the preliminary pact was signed on June 27, 2025, by the foreign ministers of the DRC and Rwanda, the formal ratification, with the heads of state, took place on December 4, 2025, in Washington, D.C., in a ceremony presided over by U.S. President Donald J. Trump. The U.S. government has characterized the Accord as a historic milestone, an opportunity to deliver peace, stability, and prosperity to a region long ravaged by conflict. Yet, even at the time of signing, many analysts cautioned against treating it as a final solution, noting the absence of major rebel group participation (especially the powerful rebel group M23) and pointing out persistent uncertainty on the ground. Thus, while the Accord carries symbolic significance, its real value and risks lie in what happens next in terms of implementation, enforcement, justice, and how the promised economic integration will play out.
The Washington Accord holds the potential for significant changes for the DRC, Rwanda, and the broader African Great Lakes region. But it also raises substantial risks. A reduction in overt interstate hostilities if Rwanda withdraws its troops and disavows support for proxy militias would remove one major driver of renewed conflict. Joint security coordination and the targeting of non-state armed groups could, in theory, decrease militia-related violence and create space for stabilization, humanitarian access, and reconstruction. Formalization of mineral trade and economic development opportunities by moving extraction and export into a legal, regulated framework, the Accord could help reduce illicit mining, smuggling, and war economy dynamics. With U.S. investment interest, there’s potential for infrastructure development, job creation, and increased revenues if properly managed. Integration between the DRC and Rwanda (and potentially other neighboring states) could foster regional economic cooperation, trade linkages, and cross-border commerce.
Possibility of long-term regional peace and reintegration if disarmament and reintegration of militia members are carried out, communities long displaced or living under fear may return home. With effective monitoring and neutral observers, trust could be re-established, and a long-term political settlement could be possible. A shift away from perpetual proxy wars towards negotiated settlements, moving conflict resolution away from military intervention to diplomacy, even if brokered externally, could break cycles of violence that have persisted for decades. The Accord could serve as a precedent for similar frameworks in other conflict zones across Africa.
However, the Accord’s promise comes with heavy caveats and potential pitfalls. Implementation remains deeply uncertain even by late 2025; reports indicated that troops had not fully withdrawn and that fighting continued in parts of eastern DRC. The powerful rebel group M23, widely seen as central to the conflict dynamics, was not party to the agreement. Past peace deals in the region have collapsed or been ignored, raising doubts about enforceability and long-term commitment by the parties. In the absence of justice and accountability mechanisms, the Accord focuses on security and economic integration. Still, it offers no comprehensive plan for transitional justice, accountability for past crimes (including genocide-related atrocities and war crimes), reparations, or reconciliation. For survivors, displaced persons, and marginalized communities, this omission may amount to impunity, a resumption of “business as usual” under a veneer of peace.
Given that U.S. companies now have a pathway into DRC and regional mineral industries, there is real danger that mineral wealth will once again be extracted without fair benefit to local populations, reinforcing dependency rather than building prosperity. Critics argue this may repackage old exploitation under new names. The Accord could legitimize foreign control over strategic assets, weakening national and regional sovereignty in favor of Western corporate interests. Marginalization of African institutions and regional ownership by placing a U.S.-brokered peace deal at the center of resolving African conflict, the accord risks sidelining African-led institutions historically tasked with such diplomacy. This may weaken the role, legitimacy, and future capacity of continental or regional mechanisms to handle African crises. The danger of superficial peace without structural transformation, without addressing root causes, such as land disputes, governance failures, ethnic tensions, economic inequality, and resource governance, the Accord may amount to a temporary lull rather than a durable peace. If only militaristic and economic aspects are addressed, societal grievances and political exclusion may persist, risking renewed conflict under different guises.
One of the most critical dimensions of the Washington Accord is its explicit linkage between peace/security and resource access, which many analysts (and African civil society) see as deeply transactional. From the outset, the Accord was framed not only as a peace effort but as a strategic opportunity: the U.S. aims to lock in access to critical minerals from the DRC, mainly cobalt, coltan, lithium, and copper, which are vital for global tech supply chains and strategic competition. This reframing suggests that the Accord was as much about securing resources for foreign investors as it was about ending violence. I’d describe the Accord bluntly as a “minerals-for-security” deal: resources in exchange for diplomatic resolution and alleged stability. In many ways, this echoes older patterns of external powers leveraging conflict and instability in Africa to gain economic advantage reminiscent of neo-colonial resource exploitation, cloaked in rhetoric of peace and development.
For the DRC, the Accord may bring welcome foreign investment, infrastructure, and a chance to formalize and regulate its mining sector. But this comes at the cost of ceding significant control to foreign capital, and potentially undermining sovereignty over strategic resources. For Rwanda, the Accord offers security assurances, international legitimacy, and a pathway to move from militia-backed influence into recognized, state-level cooperation. But it also exposes Kigali to global scrutiny, dependence on foreign mediation, and pressure to conform to external economic agendas. From a domestic governance perspective, both governments will face tremendous pressure from their own populations and civil society to deliver real benefits such as jobs, development, and justice. If these benefits fail to materialize, or if mineral wealth is siphoned off to foreign investors, the Accord could fuel new grievances rather than heal old wounds.
The timing and structure of the Accord coincide with intensifying global competition over African mineral resources. As the U.S. pushes to reduce dependence on China for critical mineral supply chains, the agreement locks the DRC and, by extension, Rwanda more tightly into Washington’s strategic orbit. This represents a second scramble for Africa, this time not for land, but for minerals, with the continent once again playing host to external rivalry. The danger is that African sovereignty becomes secondary to global supply-chain politics, and that African states become increasingly dependent on foreign powers rather than developing autonomous, locally-driven resource governance.
One of the strongest criticisms of the Washington Accord is procedural: it is argued that peace between African states, especially one as delicate and regionally impactful as that between the DRC and Rwanda, should have been mediated and led by African institutions, not by an external superpower with strategic interests. The African continent has long had institutions designed for exactly such purposes: conflict resolution, mediation, peacebuilding, and regional integration. The African Union, for example, has mandates to promote stability, peace, and cooperation among member states. Regional bodies, such as IGAD (or other sub-regional organizations), also possess experience and contextual understanding.
When mediation is led externally and especially by a global power with its own strategic interests, the risk is that local ownership is lost. Agreements may reflect the priorities and agendas of the external power rather than those of the people directly affected. In contrast, African-led mediation tends (or at least can) to prioritize local reconciliation, accountability, justice, and long-term stability grounded in African realities. African mediators are likely to have a deeper historical, cultural, and social understanding of the conflict, that is, its roots, its tribal and ethnic dimensions, its layers of grievances, and its long-term consequences. They are more likely to appreciate the centrality of justice, reparations, and reconciliation beyond mere troop withdrawal. Moreover, they might be more willing to design mechanisms for transitional justice, victims’ reparations, community reintegration, land restitution, and social cohesion aspects that a resource-driven external mediation may treat as secondary or optional.
African-led mediation and resource governance could reduce the risk of the continent being penetrated again for the benefit of foreign powers. Suppose the agreement had been brokered or supervised by the AU or IGAD, perhaps with African civil society participation. In that case, there might have been stronger clauses for resource governance, accountability, benefit-sharing, and local development rather than mining export corridors dominated by foreign capital from day one. Allowing or inviting external powers to mediate major African conflicts erodes faith in African institutions, weakens their legitimacy, and undermines the potential for regional cooperation. Over time, these risks entrench African dependence on foreign mediation and reduce incentives to build and strengthen continental dispute-resolution capacity.
A truly African-led peace process could foster stronger regional integration, trust, and mechanisms for future conflict resolution. It could empower African states to negotiate as equals, manage their own resources, and define development paths on their own terms. Given the stakes for security, resources, sovereignty, and regional stability, genuine long-term peace and development would best be served by African-led mediation and institution-building. Legitimacy and trust within the region: An accord negotiated under African leadership would likely be viewed as more legitimate by affected communities, and less tainted by external self-interest. Focus on justice and reconciliation: African institutions, working with local civil society and communities, could embed mechanisms for truth, reparations, land restitution, reintegration, and long-term social healing, factors too often ignored in resource-driven externally mediated deals. Control over resources and equitable benefit-sharing: Regional ownership could allow better negotiation of resource governance policies, ensuring that resource wealth benefits local populations, not just foreign companies. Strengthening of continental capacity: Building and trusting AU, IGAD, and other regional bodies to mediate conflicts and manage resource wealth can help Africa reduce dependency on external powers and assert sovereignty. Prevention of neocolonial dynamics: By maintaining control over its own peace processes and resources, Africa can resist being turned again into a playground for external geopolitical rivalry.
In short: African problems deserve African solutions with leadership rooted in local realities, accountability to local populations, and a vision for long-term stability, not short-term profit.
The Washington Accord also exposes uncomfortable contradictions, especially in the rhetoric of leaders who claim to be defenders of African agency, sovereignty, and pan-African solidarity, yet turn to external powers when dealing with critical issues. For decades, many African leaders, including Paul Kagame of Rwanda and William Ruto of Kenya, have publicly criticized foreign interference, neo-colonialism, and the exploitation of natural resources by non-African powers. Discussions about African sovereignty, African solutions to African problems, and pan-African unity have been front and center. Yet, when real security and resource issues arise in this case, in Eastern Congo, the same leaders travel to Washington, negotiate under the auspices of the U.S., and sign a deal that explicitly binds their countries’ economies and resource governance to U.S. strategic interests. As a result, what might be presented as a “peace agreement” may end up as a re-colonization of economic sovereignty, wrapped in the language of cooperation and integration.
When African leaders engage foreign powers for mediation, especially in resource-rich conflicts, they risk betraying the ideals of sovereignty and Pan-Africanism they often profess. The Washington Accord exemplifies this contradiction. To rely on a foreign superpower with its own interests to broker peace and access resource wealth, while publicly advocating for African agency, signals a willingness to sacrifice principle for expediency. This kind of pragmatism might yield short-term gains such as foreign investment, economic stabilization, maybe even a reduction in overt conflict. But it undermines the moral authority of African states to claim independence and control over their destiny.
In the long run, such contradictions erode trust: between citizens and their governments, between states and regional institutions, and between Africa and the rest of the world. In effect, this represents a striking form of double-speak proclaiming African autonomy and self-reliance publicly, while privately submitting to foreign power dynamics when resources and security are at stake. The tension becomes even greater when one considers that many African countries, mainly Rwanda and Kenya, have repeatedly encouraged African-led solutions to regional problems. By relying on an external superpower for mediation, they risk undermining their own stated values.
From an African continental perspective, the Washington Accord presents both a potential opportunity and a stark warning. If implemented with transparency, accountability, and inclusive governance, the Accord could deliver: Real reduction in violence and displacement in eastern Congo, Regulated and transparent resource extraction, ensuring that mineral wealth benefits local communities, not just foreign companies, New economic development pathways, regional integration, cross-border trade, and strengthened infrastructure are benefiting multiple nations and A precedent for diplomacy and negotiation over war demonstrating that even entrenched conflicts in Africa can be resolved if there is political will. It could become a turning point, not only for the DRC and Rwanda, but for how Africa handles internal conflicts involving resources, identity, and external interests.
But only if the Accord is treated as a final fix rather than the beginning of a long, difficult process does it risk backfiring. Potential dangers include: Resources extracted for foreign benefit, with little local development or reinvestment, accountability for past atrocities is being ignored, perpetuating cycles of impunity and injustice, Local populations are being further marginalized especially victims of conflict who might not see reparations or meaningful rebuilding, Africa is becoming a dependency zone not of aid, but of resource extraction, controlled and dictated by foreign capital and African institutions and regional mechanisms are being further sidelined, undermining long-term prospects for continental ownership of peace and development. In short: a deal that begins with hope could end in exploitation. Whether the Accord becomes a milestone for African-led peace or a re-arrangement of resource dominance depends on who controls implementation, who enforces accountability, and who benefits.
The Washington Accord between the DRC and Rwanda is a complex, high-stakes gamble. It carries the promise of peace, stability, economic integration, and an end to one of Africa’s most protracted conflicts. But it also carries serious risks of renewed exploitation, broken promises, and a re-entrenchment of foreign domination over Africa’s resources. For Rwanda and the DRC, the Accord offers hope but only if it is implemented with transparency, justice, local ownership, and real benefits for citizens. For Africa more broadly, the Accord is a warning that when foreign powers mediate critical African issues, the balance of power often tilts to the detriment of African sovereignty and long-term well-being.
If Africa is to transform conflict into peace and resource wealth into development, truly, African stakeholders: governments, continental bodies like the AU, regional organizations like IGAD, civil society, and ordinary citizens must assert leadership. They must demand accountability, equitable benefit sharing, and genuine reconciliation. The Washington Accord should not be seen as an end, but as a new beginning, a fork in the road. It could lead to a future where peace is sustained, resources empower communities, and African agency is central. Or it could lead back into cycles of exploitation, inequality, and dependency. What path Africa takes next will depend on whether its people and institutions choose to reclaim their agency or cede it again, in exchange for the appearance of stability.





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