Genocide in Our Times: Shake Hands with Devil

Kofi Annan has blood on his hands. He might not have personally fired a shot in Rwanda, but his actions ensured the violent Hutu extremists remained heavily armed. So claims Lietenant-General Roméo Dallaire, the French-Canadian military commander of the UN peacekeeping forces in Rwanda. Based on Dallaire’s memoir, Roger Spottiswoode’s Shake Hands with the Devil (trailer here) is an incisive indictment of the UN’s willful negligence during the 1994 mass killings that opens tomorrow in New York.

Dallaire is a haunted man, haunted by the ghosts of 800,000 Rwandans who were murdered while he stood idly by, handcuffed by the UN’s restrictive rules of engagement and a lack of supplies. It need not have been so. As he first arrives at his post, the situation appears promising. All sides profess to want peace and are actively engaged in UN sponsored negotiations. Yet, there are troubling signs, like the growing presence of informal Hutu militias strutting through the streets.

Initially, the UN Mission in Rwanda (UNAMIR) seems to get a lucky break when a well-placed source steps forward with information about huge weapons stockpiles in the ruling Hutu party headquarters. However, before Dallaire can launch his planned operation to seize the arms, the UN peacekeeping command orders him to stand down. Instead of confiscating the arms, he is to inform the hardline Hutu president of what they know and he is forbidden to offer asylum to his informer. At this point, the die is cast. Annan and the UN might as well have issued a proclamation declaring genocide season officially open.

A strong likeness of the real Dallaire, Roy Dupuis (who could also pass for Bruce Campbell’s older brother) gives a depressingly good performance, vividly showing the General’s military bearing cracking under the weight of the horror and futility of his position. Indeed, Shake is a rare film that genuinely respects military figures, like Belgian Colonel Luc Marchal, portrayed with genuine humanity by Québécois actor Michel Mongeau.

Frankly, Shake is an angry film and well it should be. Still, Spottiswoode never loses sight of the visceral personal drama as Dallaire struggles to save as many Rwandans as he can—30,000 ultimately—and a semblance of his soul. Of course, he could have saved so many more lives had Annan and the UN made different decisions at several junctures. Dallaire and Shake do not let the U.S. off the hook either, excoriating American policy makers for opposing the use of the term “genocide” for the horrors unfolding in Rwanda because of the legal ramifications it carries. (For the record, Clinton, Albright, and Cohen would be the ones to thank for that stain on our national honor.)

Filmed on location in Rwandan, often at the sites of the actual genocidal atrocities, Shake is certainly realistic. Surprisingly though, there is very little graphic horror depicted on-screen, since viewers see the killings through Dallaire’s eyes, mostly after the fact. Mournful and damning, Shake is one of the best politically charged narrative films released theatrically this year (finally, after spending several years on the festival circuit). Highly recommended, it opens tomorrow (11/12) in New York at the Quad Cinema.

Tribeca ’10: Earth Made of Glass

Only the second country to join the Commonwealth that was not a former British territory, Rwanda has also changed its official language from French to English. This de-Francophonization of the former Belgian colony was not an accident. Information has recently come to light suggesting France’s partial culpability in the 1994 genocide, causing a major rift between the nations. In lieu of justice, the search for truth takes on paramount importance for two very different Rwandans in Deborah Scranton’s documentary Earth Made of Glass (trailer here), which premiered at the 2010 Tribeca Film Festival.

Glass’s title is both obscure and inapt. It refers to the Emerson quote: “Commit a crime and the Earth is made of glass.” However, under the leadership of President Paul Kagame, Rwanda has foregone formal criminal prosecutions of the Hutu genocide of the minority Tutsis. Instead, survivors like Jean Pierre Sagahutu must console themselves with the truth, as determined by informal community-based courts. Hardly a fugitive scrambling to hide on an Earth of glass, the man who murdered Sagahutu’s father lives openly without fear of legal repercussions.

Perhaps as a result of international guilt, Kigali is Africa’s reining boom town, swelling with foreign investment. It has also been extraordinarily stable, considering its recent history. In large measure, this is due to Kagame’s policies, which have discouraged retribution and banned ethnic identification on government documents. Tellingly, both Kagame and Sagahutu call themselves Rwandan instead of Tutsi, proclaiming their national identity rather than asserting a sense of ethnic aggreivement.

The one area of turbulence for the Kagame government has been its foreign relations with France. Shortly after Kagame released documents outlining the collusion of Mitterand’s Socialist government with the former ruling Hutus leading up to and during the genocide, France arrested top Kagame aide Rose Kabuye on dubious terrorism charges, while on a formal state visit.

Glass is practically two movies shoehorned into one, but they are both very compelling, so it works out quite well regardless. The segments with Kagame are truly eye-opening, but the exact nature of the French involvement should have been more clearly detailed. However, he comes across as a genuinely humane and forward-thinking leader. It is Sagahutu’s story though, that packs the emotional punch, as he seeks closure when finally confronting his father’s killer face-to-face.

Scranton captures every intimate detail of Sagahutu’s difficult homecoming, including the evil banality of the likely murderer. She also relies on many interview sequences with him and Kagame, filmed with vivid clarity by cinematographer P.H. O’Brien against vibrant white backgrounds. As a result, what could have been rather straightforward talking-head segments lend the film a surprisingly interesting visual aesthetic.

Earth Made of Glass is a terrible title, but it is a great film. While there have been several well received documentaries on the 1994 genocide, Scranton finds fresh material to mine. Heartfelt and informative, it is one of the best documentaries at Tribeca this year. It screens again Friday (4/30) and Saturday (5/1).