Quotes from the field:

Sometimes, when a journalist comes to interview me, he asks me a few questions.  I tell him the truth of what happened.  But he himself, he will also have his analysis of how to deal with the information.  Sometimes he misuses the information.  For example, a journalist from New Times found me here in the prison.  He asked me questions and I answered them truthfully.  But then, when I read the article that he wrote in the newspaper, there was nothing that we talked about.  The headline read, “The Songs of the Genocide.”  They took a photo of the skulls that are displayed in the memorials, and they put my photo beside these skulls.  That paper, whoever got it and brought it to me—I was hurt.  [In English]: It really hurt me. [Makes a slashing motion across his chest, continues on in Kinyarwanda]: I wondered, “How could this man be such a bad person?”  My picture’s here, and the skulls are over here, and the headline is “The Songs of the Genocide”?!

[In English]:  Please, tell the truth…tell the truth…     

—Simon Bikindi, personal interview

Jason McCoy and Simon Bikindi at the United Nations Detention Facility in Arusha, Tanzania, May 2011

I tell you, during the genocide, they used each and every thing, including music.

—Janvier, a local community leader who moved to Rwanda after the genocide;
a Tutsi and RPF supporter


People ask me, “How did [the genocide] start?”  And I’m saying that if you could put this music somewhere, like [at this memorial site], so that people could come and listen to it, then they would know how it started.

—Imanuel; a man whose wife and children were killed during the genocide; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


For those who don’t understand Kinyarwanda, they may think that he is not calling them to kill.  But when you listen well or when you read the text, he’s asking them to kill.

—Apollinaire, a translator/interpreter for the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR); a Tutsi, political affiliation unknown


What I can tell you is that he was a talented man who had a group of singers.  I remember he liked to wear traditional clothes so that he attracted the attention of all Rwandans before genocide.  He attracted people in Rwanda so that everyone was willing to hear the songs of Bikindi.  He was loved so much in Rwanda because of his skillful songs, because of his good songs…Suddenly, when genocide started, he started to sing those songs that could attract people to kill.  Racism songs.  Those bad songs.  You know, there are those kind of melodies which—I am not a musician, so I cannot tell—but I can feel them.  There are those songs full of sorrows, there are songs full of different kinds of emotions, songs that arouse anger…When I hear this song now, I feel [*deep breath*] fear—fear tremendously.  How can anyone say that Bikindi is not guilty?  He is one-hundred percent guilty, because of this—this [music] is very strong mobilization.  You see, what do we do when we want to mobilize people for Jesus?  Now we sing!  Now we worship!  People come to hear, to worship.  They hear the worship, and they hear the message through songs.  It is like that with Bikindi.  So, this man was a first-class organizer of genocide.

—Paul, a pastor whose first wife and two children were killed during the genocide; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


Ai! Bikindi—that guy is a crazy man!

—Dominique, a journalist and university professor; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


He is waking up the Hutu.  He is preparing them.  Sensitizing them, so that they can be united and be prepared and ready for the genocide.

—Francoise, a middle-aged man whose wife and children were killed during the genocide; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


Bikindi was awakening the Hutus “to work” [meaning, to kill], because the enemy was the Tutsi…He had a purpose, even though he was only playing music; he knew the genocide would occur…Truly, I know that [his songs] influenced Hutu to kill others.

—Beata, a young woman whose father and brother were killed during the genocide; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


Now as I listen to this song, I go back—the memories of that day come back.  It makes me really hate Bikindi.  Someone like Bikindi, who has been created by God who has given him the talent and knowledge to save the people, to give them a good message.  But he changed.  And he gave them a message like this.  It hurts me so much.  This song was really about waking up the Hutu.  In the bars they used it, to give them the energy, to make them stand up and do their “work.”

—Vincent, a motel custodian whose father was killed during the genocide; witnessed the massacre of several children; was brutally beaten and almost killed; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


What I’m telling you is that if I did participate in those killings, it is because of the teachings or what I learnt from Bikindi’s songs.

—ICTR Prosecution witness AEY, testifying against Bikindi; former Interahamwe member, incarcerated in Rwanda; a Hutu, political affiliation unknown


We killed because we were furious.  Our president had died, and when we listened to Bikindi’s songs, they incited us to kill.  Then, at that time, anybody whom we caught or arrested was killed ruthlessly, without any pity.

— ICTR Prosecution witness BHI, testifying against Bikindi; former Interahamwe member, now in prison in Rwanda; a Hutu, political affiliation unknown


When I saw those people killing, they had turned like wild animals…Their heart was full of hatred.  When the heart is full of hatred, even their appearance changes.  The thing that made me think they were like wild animals, they would kill many people, and their color, their face changed.  There were those who wore dried banana leaves, others who wore colorful kitanga, some who even wore dresses.  Somebody who kills many people, there comes a time when they become, like, traumatized—no understanding, no humanity—they are just like animals, wild animals, running up and down because of the blood they have shed…They drank a lot, with cocaine, tobacco, other drugs.  It would enter their blood and their brains, and they would become like mad people…They listened to [Bikindi’s songs] on the radio a lot.  Every day, they were on the radio.  All the time…The words of Bikindi penetrated the Hutu who were here.  But there were also other Hutu who were on the side of the RPF, who were trying to fight against the genocide mind.  And that’s why Bikindi says, “People who say they are your friends, they’re actually coming to take over the country.”  And that’s why he said, “Quickly, defend your nation.”  That’s why many hurtful people shouted it.  That’s why genocide was done to Tutsis and to other Hutus who never got involved in the genocide…Yes, the songs of Bikindi, we used to listen to them on the radio.  Because of the killings that were already happening all around, they were really encouraging people to kill more.  They had powerful words to remove fear so that they may go on killing.  They really, especially, helped Hutus with killing Tutsis.

—Stephan, a middle-aged man who was forced to join a death squad during the genocide; witnessed over forty murders; spent ten years in prison; a Hutu and RPF supporter


The drums, the music are very nice, but the problem is this music created evil.  They were really planning the genocide for such a song to have been sung…See, I believe that this was the way it was with music; it was as if the government allowed Bikindi to sing.  He tells [his audience], “Be clear about what you are doing.  Instead of killing each other, see who is among you, who is a Tutsi.  So instead of killing each other, you should kill them.”  He is saying, “We are from one father, and we must fight the Tutsis, not one another.  Instead of fighting each other, we should stop.  Now, tighten your belts and go and kill the Tutsis who are trying to kill us”…Maybe when you called me it was just to come and talk, but [listening to these songs], it makes my heart stop and my mind go wild.  I used to see people singing these songs, dancing and rejoicing.  But when I came to understand the words, they were really bad.

—Jean-Baptiste, an elderly farmer whose wife and six children were massacred
as they sought sanctuary in a church; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


We are fortunate these songs are no longer played.  If they were still played, some people would be traumatized because these are the same songs that were played when the killing was taking place…If you were to play them now, you would be putting society in danger.  People would go mad.  You wouldn’t play them!  Because otherwise, you would be calling people to do evil and causing other people to go mad.

—Judith, a middle-aged woman and professional singer of traditional songs whose husband and children were killed during the genocide; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


Fifteen years is not enough!  Life imprisonment would be good.  Execution would be better…Even now, if it could happen that I could see him face to face, I would either go into like a coma or lose my mind.  Because of his music—encouraging people to come and kill us and all that took place because of it.  After all that happened to me.  Being stoned.  Because of the wounds I received.

—Bernardin, an elderly farmer whose wife and children were killed during the genocide; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


At that point [when the RPF was invading], when he sings such songs, you realize that these are songs that would create hatred.  He also knew that what he did was not right, because he fled to Belgium even though no one was accusing him yet…But during those times when the RPF was approaching Kigali, would just kill you if you spoke out against them…so I would forgive Bikindi, because there is this temptation—artists tend to lean towards the government.

—Kirisu Thomas, an elderly (now deceased) performer of traditional Rwandan music and a former colleague of Bikindi; a Hutu and RPF supporter


I would consider him as someone who was just working for a living…When we performed at political meetings, we got 7,000 francs, so that’s why I see him from the viewpoint of earning a living.  Should we remain alone as musicians?  Our job is to create songs for others.  A person comes with money and says, “This is the theme I want you to create a song about.”  So someone says, “Create a song about the soldiers fighting on the front.”  [*Laughs*]  Can we stop?  Can we stop our creativity in dance and in songs?  For example, I couldn’t imagine a situation where we didn’t have Habyarimana.  He was the only leader I knew.  I thought he was powerful.  I couldn’t imagine a situation where he was gone, and so if he instructed me to perform, I would do it…I wouldn’t punish Bikindi severely.  He was a guy looking for money to survive…I don’t see Bikindi as a tribalist.  He was a realist.  [With us], his only consideration was whether you knew how to sing well, whether you knew how to dance well—that’s all he saw.  If you messed up, you were punished because of your mistake, not because of your tribe.

—Imanuel; a dancer in his mid-30s and a former member of Bikindi’s troupe, Itorero Irindiro; a Twa, political affiliation unknown


If you did not compose songs to encourage soldiers, you could lose your job or opportunities to perform.  Your career could be over. All ballet troupes competed to prove their loyalty so that they could continue on.  Bikindi did not want to be suspected.  Composers were obliged to create songs supporting the ruling party.

—Andreas, a performer and teacher of traditional Rwandan music in his late-20s; a Hutu and RPF critic


On one side, some people might think that he intended to kill through these songs.  Some people may think this.  But on the other side, some may think something different.  For example, on a positive note, Bikindi sings, “If we elect a Hutu, let him rule us; if we elect a Tutsi, let him rule us; if we elect a Twa; let him rule us.”  So, it depends on the listener and how he hears it and conceives of it…But today, these songs are dangerous.  Maybe they weren’t in the past, before 1994, but now, the consequences are real.

—Seburiri, a professional drummer and former member of Bikindi’s troupe, Itorero Irindiro; a Hutu, political affiliation unknown


He sang—but if he really wanted to exterminate the Tutsis, he would not have done so merely by singing.  He would have acted; he would have killed with his very own hands.  He saw the Tutsis, they were there, but he did not do anything to harm them.  It is true that I did not conduct an in-depth analysis of his songs with a view to ascertaining the different themes; however, I cannot accept the claim that Bikindi’s aim was to incite ethnic hatred against the Tutsis.

— ICTR Defense witness AQH, testifying on behalf of Bikindi; a bartender who lived and worked near Bikindi’s home; a Tutsi, political affiliation unknown


There is nothing wrong with his music!

—Jacques, a middle-aged former refugee, now living in Texas; he and his immediate family fled after their relatives were massacred by RPF-backed forces in Congo;
a Hutu and RPF critic


For me, there is nothing wrong with his music.  It is just history.

—Lucie, a middle-aged school teacher whose brothers were imprisoned without charge under the RPF; fled Rwanda due to threats against her family; a Hutu and RPF critic


There is nothing wrong with his music.  It is just history.  What he says happened really happened!  And everything he says would happen [if the RPF took power] has happened!  He is just speaking the truth.

—Claudia, a former refugee now living in Florida; family forced to flee after husband’s life was threatened by the RPF; a Hutu and RPF critic


The reason people think Bikindi’s songs are bad is because the RPF wants to keep everyone stupid.

—Joseph, an elderly Catholic priest; a Hutu and RPF critic


He was my husband; I, a Tutsi…If Bikindi had ever dared to kill Tutsis, then there was no way I could forgive him for that…I had never seen him display hatred against anyone.

—ICTR Defense witness and Bikindi’s second wife, Angeline Mukabanana, testifying on her husband’s behalf; most of her family were killed during the genocide; fled Rwanda after RPF authorities threatened her for refusing to testify against her husband;
a Tutsi, political allegiance unknown


He was somehow like a genius…[*Shakes head and sighs*] There will never be another like him.

—Ronald, a linguist and university professor; ethnicity and political allegiance unknown


And you know, still now, there is ambiguity in our history between Hutu and Tutsi.   We have two ideologies that come in.  One, they say that there is Hutu and Tutsi by nature, by physical features, by everything, and the other ideology says there is no Hutu and Tutsi; the difference between them had to do only with wealth.  And so, even still, there is ambiguity in our history—we have not grasped which one is which.  And so out of this, in the middle of our conflict in our history, Bikindi picks just a little bit from this history and puts it in the song.

—Frank, head of the local defense force in Butare; my research colleague and interpreter; a Tutsi and RPF supporter


To me, he is too excessive a patriot.  Because through music, we can transmit a teaching, a message.  Not just a message that pleases the ears or that pleases people, but also—you know that through music you can teach people, and what he’s teaching, for me, was too, too patriotic.  Excessively so.  On the other hand, any patriot obviously would have sung the same thing, because the RPF was invading the country, and anybody would have encouraged the army to fight the invader.  And that’s what Bikindi is singing about…Having said that, I believe that in many democratic countries, people are allowed to express themselves—their feelings, their beliefs—through songs or through the media.  So, to some extent, Bikindi expressed his ideas.  There’s no need to judge him for his ideas…[Instead], we have a responsibility—we ourselves who are judging him.  How are we?  Who are we to judge him?  How are we, ourselves?  So, I’m saying, “Enough is enough.”  Let’s look forward.  Let’s look for something positive.  Let’s look for reconciliation.  We should not be fighting and just judging people.  But reconciliation should come for real in Rwanda.  And what happened should be a history to remind people, and to tell our descendants that such bad things should not happen again.  That’s what I feel when I listen to the music of Bikindi. 

—John, a community organizer and former Anglican priest, removed from his position and replaced by a Tutsi after the RPF took power; a Hutu and RPF supporter