In Congo, a new national museum renews quest to reclaim history
| Kinshasa, Congo
In a hilltop park high above Congo鈥檚 capital city, Batekele Mabanza Jose sits watch over his country鈥檚 history.
All around him, eras of the country鈥檚 past are shoved together like layers of metamorphic rock. On one side of the park, vines crawl over the bars of a cage that in the 1970s held one of former President Mobutu Sese Seko鈥檚 pet leopards. In another corner, an oversized bronze statue of the Belgian King Leopold II 鈥� Congo鈥檚 19th century conqueror 鈥� gazes purposefully out over a cracked parking lot.
Nearby, a small complex of warehouses holds the nearly 50,000-item collection of Congo鈥檚 national museum, a sprawling mix of paintings, cultural artifacts, and audio recordings documenting the histories and cultures of Congo鈥檚 mosaic of ethnic groups.
鈥淭his place is the memory of our country,鈥� says Mr. Jose, a curator and tour guide for the museum, as he waits for visitors on a recent Saturday morning.
But as a reservoir for a country鈥檚 collective memory, the museum complex has one major downside 鈥� it鈥檚 been almost entirely forgotten.
Entire days often pass here without a single visitor. The same is true at another branch of the museum at Kinshasa鈥檚 Academy of Fine Arts. There, a lone air conditioner rasps as it blows tiny puffs of cool air over a dimly lit room crowded with sparsely labeled masks, weavings, and spears.
鈥淭his is what colonization did to us 鈥� it cut us off from our traditional culture, it made people forget where they came from,鈥� says Marie Salome Mwemena, the director of that museum, surveying the empty room. 鈥淲e are like a people with amnesia. We have forgotten our own history.鈥�
But now, the concrete skeleton of a new national museum building is rising on one of Kinshasa鈥檚 main boulevards, slotted into prime real estate near the Palais du Peuple, Congo鈥檚 parliament, and the country鈥檚 national stadium. It鈥檚 being bankrolled by the Korea International Cooperation Agency (KOICA), which says it hopes the new museum will encourage more Congolese to engage with the country鈥檚 past, and help forge a sense of national unity in a country splintered by violent insurgencies. For many Congolese, meanwhile, the museum project is a hopeful step in their decades-long battle to have tens of thousands of Congolese artifacts repatriated from European and American museums.
But perhaps no one knows better than the Congolese how complicated a project it is to build a country 鈥� or for that matter, a national museum. In the 1970s, after all, the flamboyant Mobutu tried to do both. Mobutu鈥檚 museum, indeed, was in many ways meant to be a laboratory for Congo itself, says Sarah Van Beurden, an associate professor of African American and African studies at The Ohio State University: intended as a聽place where the dictator-president could redefine a national identity brutally suppressed by Belgian colonial rule.聽
And the story of its rise and fall, some observers say, offers a cautionary tale for the new museum, and a reminder that what makes it into a country鈥檚 past is very much determined by the goals of those in power in the country鈥檚 present.
That was something Mobutu knew well.
鈥淒uring the colonial period we suffered 鈥� from the barbarous, systematic pillaging of all our works of art,鈥� in October 1973, his trademark leopard-skin hat cocked carefully to one side. He was referring to the mass flight of artifacts from the country under Belgian colonial rule 鈥� the vast majority of them to the Royal Museum for Central Africa near Brussels. 聽The robbery of these artifacts, he said, had made his country 鈥減oor not only economically but culturally.鈥�
And so, he announced to the UN, Congo wanted its history back. And do to that, it created a vast new national museum, one that would bring Congolese back to what he felt were their 鈥渁uthentic鈥� cultural roots 鈥� before Western imperialism got in the way.
鈥淏ack then we had everything to do our research 鈥� vehicles, cameras, money, anything you needed,鈥� says 海角大神 Briki Kond鈥檍i, the director of the contemporary art museum in Kinshasa, who then was a young researcher for the Institute of National Museums. 鈥淭his was 补耻迟丑别苍迟颈肠颈迟茅 put into practice,鈥� he says, referring to Mobutu鈥檚 broader project to purge the country of foreign influences, including its very name. The dictator-president rechristened Congo as 鈥淶aire,鈥� dropped his own French first name, Joseph-D茅sir茅, and urged his countrymen to do the same.
In those days, he says, the museum鈥檚 staff 鈥� Belgian and Congolese 鈥� would load up their gear into one of the institute鈥檚 two Land Rovers and head out from the capital on teeth-rattling dirt roads to the country鈥檚 most remote corners, where they purchased tens of thousands of pieces of traditional art, weaponry, musical instruments, and other cultural relics from local communities.
Back in Kinshasa, they meticulously tagged and organized their new collections, which were stored in an old barracks on Kinshasa鈥檚 Mont Ngaliema. In a nod to how important the museum was to the president, it backed up onto one of Mobutu鈥檚 palaces and his personal zoo. Meanwhile, the president himself was deep in negotiations with Belgian officials to return objects they had taken out of the country during the colonial period.
Then, things began to fall apart.
At the same time as Mobutu was trying to reclaim his country鈥檚 history from the Belgians, he was trying to take back its economy as well. By the mid-1970s, he had nationalized most of the country鈥檚 foreign-owned companies, doling them out to his friends and political confidantes. Many were quickly pillaged or run into the ground. The country鈥檚 economy tumbled.
As government coffers emptied, plans to build a massive new building for the national museum quickly fell by the wayside.
鈥淭hat was when things really began to decline,鈥� Mr. Kond鈥檍i says.
And it only got worse. As two major wars gripped Congo in the 1990s and early 2000s, valuable pieces began disappearing from its museums and storerooms, only to later appear on international markets. And the presidents who followed Mobutu seemed to have little interest in splashing out on fixing up their museums when so much of the rest of their country 鈥� from schools to hospitals to roads 鈥� was in an equal state of disrepair.
In 2011, however, the Congolese government struck a deal with KOICA, the Korean development agency. 聽It would fund the construction of a new national museum, as well as help to digitize its collections and train its staff on museum management.
But like the old museum before it, the project has often seemed less about the museum鈥檚 contents and more about the performance of building it, says Dr. Van Beurden, the author of a book on the history of Congo鈥檚 national museum.
鈥淭here鈥檚 this idea that just having a museum puts you on the map as a place, that it legitimizes you as a country,鈥� she says. 鈥淭here鈥檚 concern that the museum isn鈥檛 going to be so much about its contents as its shell.鈥�
And that worry isn鈥檛 just about Congo鈥檚 approach to the museum. It鈥檚 about South Korea鈥檚 as well. As a rising star in the aid world, Seoul wants to show it鈥檚 capable not just of handing out sacks of flour or vaccinating children, but also of pulling off a big cultural project like a museum, Dr. Van Beurden says.
鈥淭he story they tell about themselves is about a formerly colonized country that has overcome its past to become a highly successful developed nation,鈥� she says. 鈥淎nd they鈥檙e using that image to say to the Congolese, you don鈥檛 need to work with your old colonial overlords, you can work with us instead.鈥�
Given Congo鈥檚 fraught history with European countries like Belgium, that鈥檚 a meaningful offer. However, so far the plans for the new museum have been light on many details 鈥� like what exactly will be exhibited there, or what the long term plans for funding and maintaining it are. (KOICA declined to comment for this story.)
The museum, but some speculate the country鈥檚 current political turmoil could push that date back. President Joseph Kabila, who has been in office since 2001, has resisted repeated calls to step down after his last term expired at the end of 2016. Since then, the country has been wracked by protests, several of which have been violently put down by the country鈥檚 police force.
And although many local museum officials say they鈥檙e hopeful the new project will turn out well, they also know better than to rely on government to come through for them.
Kond鈥檍i, of the contemporary arts museum, part of the Institute of National Museums, says he long ago stopped waiting for government to fill his museum鈥檚 bank account, and now devotes most of his time to hustling for funding from outside sources like embassies and foundations. And it鈥檚 working, he says, at least for now.
On a recent morning, a crowd of schoolchildren toured the contemporary art museum鈥檚 current exhibition, a series of paintings and sculptures honoring Congolese women, tucked into a hall beneath the city鈥檚 iconic Limete Tower. As they moved from painting to painting, gasping and giggling, one of their teachers explained why she had brought them here.
鈥淥ur kids, they need this 鈥� they need to see that Congo has art too,鈥� said Diasadila Godelieve. 鈥淎nd it鈥檚 fun.鈥�
Back at the national museum complex, meanwhile, Jose, the curator, wandered out of the single, small exhibition hall, where he had just finished his first tour for the day at 3 p.m. He blinked back the white midday light as he locked the door. Then he made his way slowly back to the park鈥檚 entrance, where he sat down and once again began to wait.
Tshoper Kabambi contributed reporting.聽
