Chris McGreal
The Marquis Bernard-Alexis P de Menars, Prince de Bourbon-Vendome, head of the Universal Foundation, pursuer of “The Light”, looked genuine enough to the Democratic Republic of Congo’s inexperienced former finance minister, Mawampanga Mwana Nanga.
The “marquis” arrived at Mawampanga’s office offering to help raise and administer $500- million for the cash-strapped former Zaire.
“He was well-spoken and had a serious attitude. He was saying there was an alternative financing scheme whereby Congo could help rebuild the health system,” says Mawampanga, who was appointed minister of agriculture in President Laurent Kabila’s Cabinet reshuffle in January.
The “marquis’s” credentials appeared impressive, if a little bizarre. In a letter to Mawampanga he described himself as a “generalist and humanitarian”, a theoretician in biology and astrophysics, and an expert on the administration of large-scale, non-polluting industrial waste- disposal systems. Perhaps the unexplained reference to advancing “The Light” should have rung alarm bells. But it did not.
Only when the “marquis” asked for a multimillion-dollar letter of credit did Congo’s former finance minister check with Interpol.
“Two days later we got this message back saying: ‘Beware, this is a classic fraudulent scheme,'” Mawampanga says.
From New York, the “marquis” said he was shocked at the suspicions: “I really don’t know where they could have got the idea I have anything but the best intentions. I am just trying to help this poor country. If they don’t want my help, then that’s OK.”
Others have followed in the “marquis’s” wake as Congo’s new government turns to international business in a desperate bid to fill the coffers left bare by former president Mobutu Sese Seko.
With only tentative offers of international aid, the country is banking on private foreign investment to meet at least one- quarter of its $1-billion plan to resurrect the economy.
Congo’s rich deposits of copper, diamonds and gold have already attracted deals worth hundreds of millions of rands. But alongside the serious investment proposals have arrived the carpetbaggers, and worse.
“The problem is, how do you sort out all these people? How do you tell the good guys from the ones who are not serious? A lot of people who are coming here are con artists with wild schemes,” says Mawampanga.
“The worst thing is that they are using our own people. Our guys come to me saying: ‘Use this guy. He is going to bring us a lot of money.’ All the time I have to put up with this, and people saying: ‘This Mawampanga doesn’t understand. He is turning away free money.’ And I have to tell them there is not such a thing as free money.”
Even the right-wing American evangelist Pat Robertson – who was one of Mobutu’s most ardent supporters while running a diamond- mining venture in league with the deposed despot – has written to the new government offering to do business.
Con artists are not the only concern of Congo’s inexperienced administration. Mawampanga protests that while investors complain that corruption is alive and kicking, the government’s efforts to eradicate graft are undermined by foreign businessmen who still seek to win contracts by bribing local officials.
He acknowledges some civil servants can be bought, but argues that because the government has been unable to pay them since July, public officials are vulnerable to exploitation. “So many people come and try to bribe everybody. When someone says: ‘I could give you this if you just do this for me,’ and they’re not getting paid, it makes life very difficult. It’s easy for them to criticise, but they should ask themselves what they’re doing to help stop it,” says Mawampanga.
Congolese officials say several foreign firms unable to win contracts legitimately have tried to buy them. Although they decline to name names, they say mining houses, importers and engineering companies are among the culprits.
The administration has other reasons to be cautious in its dealings with multinationals. After Kabila seized power last May, the government invited the United States giant Bechtel to assess Congo’s abundant natural resources and present a plan to revitalise the economy.
The final product left the administration sceptical and suspicious. Although Bechtel claimed to have spent $5-million researching its proposal, the plan looked little better than a glossy public-relations brochure.
“This was something you could have done sitting in front of a computer, or you could have gone to your college library or used an encyclopaedia. You didn’t need to have come to the country for that plan. I don’t see how it cost $5-million,” says Mawampanga.
Others fear the Bechtel proposal has laid the ground for handing the country’s economic administration to a foreign company, in a manner reminiscent of Belgian King Leopold II’s hold over Congo as a vast, personal business reserve a century ago.