Soldiers Without an Army? Patronage Networks and Cohesion in the Armed Forces of the DR Congo

Cohesion in Military Settings

Within military sociology, views differ on how cohesion should be defined, operationalized, and measured (Bartone, Johnsen, Eid, Brun, & Laberg, 2002; King, 2013; Siebold, 1999, 2011). Attempting to synthesize decades of research into a broad general framework, Siebold (2007) proposes a “standard model of military group cohesion.” ¹ For Siebold, cohesion relates to a relationship structure with both affective and instrumental dimensions that establishes mutual trust and loyalty. This relationship structure impacts military conduct and motivation by facilitating collective action and promoting adhesion to group norms. It is (re)produced by both formal and informal social interaction, which may be either interpersonal or collective. Furthermore, it encompasses both task and social cohesion, seen to partly overlap (Siebold, 2011). Social cohesion relates to whether group members like each other, hence refers to the nature and quality of emotional bonds of friendship, as based on personal characteristics. Task cohesion, in turn, refers to commitment to a common mission that requires collective action to accomplish (MacCoun, 1993).

In Siebold’s model, cohesion in military organizations consists of four interrelated components. The first two constitute primary group cohesion and consist of horizontal cohesion (ties between soldiers at approximately the same level of the hierarchy) and vertical cohesion (relations between subordinates and their immediate commanders). The second two constitute secondary group cohesion and relate to organizational cohesion (the relations between military personnel and their overarching unit of organization, like a battalion or brigade) and institutional cohesion (the relations between soldiers and their overall organizational branch or the armed forces in general).

Military sociologists and other scholars have identified a wide array of factors that shape cohesion, although views on the most relevant dimensions and causal mechanisms diverge (Bartone et al., 2002; Siebold, 1999). To facilitate the analysis of how these factors shape cohesion in the FARDC, and are influenced by patronage networks, they were regrouped into four clusters (for a further elaboration, see Verweijen, 2015).

The first cluster of factors, which shapes both peer and commander-subordinate bonding, is named after Shils and Janowitz’s (1948) notion of “community of experience.” It relates to the length and characteristics of troops’ living, training, and operating together, hence predominantly to social interaction. Contrary to Shils and Janowitz’s (1948) interpretation, it excludes “homogeneity of origins”, based on the consideration that while social identification is shaped by social interaction, it cannot be equated by it. “Community of experience” encompasses the following factors: (1) exposure to common threats and shared hardships, including in the context of combat operations (Henderson, 1985; Wesbrook, 1980); (2) (the success of) carrying out common tasks, including during training (Cockerham, 1978; MacCoun, Kier, & Belkin, 2006); (3) extensive training in the same unit composition as during combat, which allows for developing shared systems of communication and routines (King, 2006); and (4) the extent to which troops need each other for survival and the provision of basic needs, such as health care, food, and clothing. As argued by Shils and Janowitz (1948), where soldiers depend on civilians for satisfying such needs, they are less oriented toward the primary combat unit.

The second cluster of factors, equally shaping both peer and commander-subordinate bonding, was labeled “commonality of identification and beliefs”. It draws inspiration from Henderson’s (1985: 26) notion of “commonality of values”, which refers to commonalities in ethnic background, nationality, gender, and socio-economic standing (hence overlaps with Shils and Janowitz’ “homogeneity of origins”). The terms “identification” and “beliefs” were found to be more analytically accurate than “values,” in part as “beliefs” is seen herein as a wider category that encompasses worldviews and ideologies, which also shape cohesion (Moskos, 1970). In recent years, scholars have pointed to the diminishing relevance of preexisting identities (such as masculinity, ethnicity, and nationality) in the context of the increasing professionalization of the armed forces and a shift in emphasis toward task cohesion (King, 2013). These findings indicate that the relative importance of common forms of identification in shaping cohesion is contextual. For that reason, “commonality of identification and beliefs” is considered herein to relate to the “(perceived) salience” of homogeneity in terms of (ethnoregional) origins, language, worldviews, and political–ideological and other beliefs. “(Perceived) salience” indicates the extent to which similarities and differences are seen to “make a difference” within formal and informal social interaction. It is partly shaped by the relative strength and significations of preexisting (i.e., before entering the current military group) civilian and military forms of identification. Certainly, the (perceived) salience of identities is also an outcome and not only a driver of cohesion formation. Yet, it is plausible to assume that where soldiers experience certain shared traits to either bind or divide them, these traits have also contributed to that outcome.

In addition to “community of experience” and “commonality of identification and beliefs,” bonding between troops and their superiors in both primary and secondary groups is shaped by additional elements, here regrouped in the third cluster of factors. Since in secondary groups in the FARDC, this cluster has preponderant influence on setting “the unit culture and climate under which service members live and operate” (Siebold, 2007, p. 290), it is considered to importantly shape organizational cohesion herein. Its first component is the extent to which commanders’ appointment is seen as legitimate, which is in part shaped by respect for meritocratic criteria (Wesbrook, 1980). The second component takes inspiration from Shils and Janowitz’s (1948) approach to identify the characteristics of commanders that subordinates find desirable. They observe that in the Wehrmacht, subordinates bonded sooner with commanders when the latter were trusted, competent, and cared for the well-being of their troops but also disciplined them when needed, thus displaying a combination of fatherly benevolence and sternness (Shils & Janowitz, 1948). Taking into account that soldiers of armed forces situated in different sociocultural and military settings might value different command characteristics, it was decided not to depart from a preset range but to first identify what FARDC soldiers perceive as desirable traits among commanders. Subsequently, it was explored to what extent commanders were experienced to live up to these expectations.

The fourth cluster of factors relates to institutional cohesion. As described earlier, Siebold (2007) interprets institutional cohesion as relating to soldiers’ bonding with the military at large. Yet the term has also been used to refer to the coherence of the military organization as a whole (e.g., Mora, 2002). This second component is also taken into consideration herein and is seen to be shaped by (1) the extent to which the military’s subdivisions and units collaborate rather than compete and (2) the extent to which lower levels of the organization are directed by the official hierarchy. The first component, relating to soldiers’ bonding, in turn, is influenced by five different factors. These include (1) service conditions, such as training opportunities and arrangements for career progression, and (2) perceptions of the legitimacy of the top political and military leadership (Siebold, 2007; Wesbrook, 1980). Both these factors help give a sense of purpose and meaningfulness to soldiers, thus enhancing their commitment to the military organization, its mission, and its norms (Siebold, 2007). Such commitment may also be reinforced by (3) worldviews and ideologies, provided that those of soldiers and the military organization align (Moskos, 1970; Wesbrook, 1980), and (4) active investment by the military organization in socializing their members into professional discourses and norms, and in promoting identification with and allegiance to the organization (Arkin & Dobrofsky, 1978). In order for soldiers to remain committed to the military organization, a final factor of importance is (5) that society demonstrates recognition of their service, for instance, in the form of symbolic rewards (Henderson, 1985; Wesbrook, 1980).

In the following, it is explored how the cohesion-fostering factors regrouped in these four different clusters are impacted by patronage networks. Hence, the latter is not considered an additional factor herein, but a phenomenon that influences the different factors shaping cohesion. But before turning to this analysis, it is important to clarify what is meant by patronage networks. The latter is understood as social networks cemented by patron–client ties, which are asymmetric but reciprocal relations that have two overlapping dimensions: The first is a dyadic, personal relationship that involves the granting of favors and assistance by a patron to an individual client in exchange for support and loyalty. The second dimension is a hierarchical relationship between a patron and a network of clients and involves the exchange of collective goods, including symbolic ones such as “representation”, for (political) support and loyalty (Erdmann & Engel, 2006). However, as pointed out by Utas (2012), patronage networks also contain more horizontal relations and social ties formed on other grounds, such as ethnic, professional, religious, or geographical background. We should therefore conceptualize such networks as complex, multidimensional webs of social relations. Moreover, within political orders qualified as “neopatrimonial,” patronage networks infuse and intersect and overlap with formal bureaucratic hierarchies (Bayart, 1989/2006; Erdmann & Engel, 2006). In many cases, this applies to hierarchies in both political and military institutions, in part as there is a mutual influence between the two (Ikpe, 2000). For instance, rulers’ efforts to maintain control over the armed forces often follow patterns of co-optation and coercion that are heavily shaped by patronage logics, which in turn reinforces the salience of patronage within the military institution (Howe, 2001). This illustrates how military cohesion is shaped not only by factors internal to the armed forces but also by the features of the macro-political order of which they are part.

Note on Methods

The data presented in this article were gathered during 14 months of ethnographic field research conducted between 2010 and 2012 in the eastern Congo’s Kivu provinces for a doctoral thesis on civilian–military interaction. Semistructured interviews were held with at least 400 civilians and over 150 military personnel, 35 of who were key informants who were also contacted via informal conversations. A part of this research focused on military cohesion, considered important for understanding the FARDC’s behavior toward civilians. The choice to study the FARDC was informed by its bad human rights record and reports that its behavior toward civilians differed considerably per brigade/regiment and per deployment context, allowing for exploring the factors shaping military behavior through a comparative case study design. Furthermore, the author had lived and worked in the Congo prior to starting doctoral research, which was deemed to facilitate data collection and interpretation. The majority of the contacted military personnel belonged to the 14 different brigades or regiments that were selected as cases. In relation to each unit, a range of conditions shaping cohesion was studied, such as its trajectory in terms of genesis, training, and combat deployment; its overall composition (military and ethnoregional background of personnel); and personnel’s living patterns and revenue-generation practices. The selection of interviewees from the FARDC occurred partly via snowball sampling, as a degree of trust was required to discuss sensitive questions. Yet continuing efforts were made to balance military from different ranks and from various military, ethnoregional, and linguistic backgrounds. A more detailed description of the used methods and data collection process can be found in Verweijen (2015).

A Brief History of a Merged Military

In 2003, the belligerents of the Second Congo War (1998–2003) adopted a peace accord based on political and military power sharing. The main warring factions agreed to dismantle their military structures and send their troops and officers into the newly formed Integrated Brigades and integrated command chain. The military merging process was however marred by irregularities, as the different factions tried to retain a maximum of influence. They often came to constitute patronage networks within the FARDC, although some gradually dissolved or transformed (Verweijen, 2014). Another complicating factor was the ex-belligerents’ widely diverging military backgrounds, encompassing, inter alia: government troops with decades of military education and training, including former members of the Forces Armées Zaïroises (FAZ), the army under President Mobutu Sese Seko (1965–1996); military from rebel armies with thousands of troops whose organization resembled that of government forces and who had received considerable training from instructors of foreign or former militaries; and troops from small-scale militias known as “Mai-Mai” with very local spheres of influence, who had mostly learned by doing (Verweijen, 2014, 2015).

The military integration process unleashed a scramble for ranks and positions. Within this competition, the bigger and more powerful rebel forces, notably the Rassemblement Congolais pour la Démocratie (RCD), as well as government networks close to President Kabila, generally prevailed. Both appointments and the distribution of ranks followed political considerations rather than criteria of military experience and competence (Eriksson Baaz & Stern, 2010; Verweijen, 2014). Consequently, ex-rebel officers with limited experience and low levels of military and sometimes general education were awarded high ranks and command positions. The same applied to rebels who integrated after the initial merger that created the FARDC, which was a regular occurrence up to 2013. These periodic influxes of rebels further reinforced nonmeritocratic appointments, and the salience of patronage networks formed along ex-rebel lines (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013a).

Deficient meritocracy generates important frictions in the FARDC’s day-to-day functioning, as experienced and well-educated military personnel are often placed under the command of younger officers with limited knowledge of military matters, some of who are even illiterate (Eriksson Baaz & Stern, 2010). A Noncommissioned Officer (NCO) explained:

I am very dissatisfied. I have had a good education, because I went to the EFO [basic officer education school during the Mobutu era], I know the Règlement militaire (military code of conduct) but my superiors have not had any education. They don’t know anything, absolutely nothing. Even if I greet them, I feel a pain somewhere in my heart.

Aside from military background, the factions that integrated into the FARDC differed in terms of ethnoregional, linguistic, and generational belonging. Many ex-government forces are well-educated ex-FAZ officers who speak Lingala and originate from the western part of the Congo. They distinguish themselves from a younger generation of ex-government soldiers consisting of Swahiliphones from the east who were first recruited into the insurgency that overthrew Mobutu in 1997 or entered the military in its wake (Verweijen, 2015). In relation to the ex-rebel forces, the main differences are ethnoregional and linguistic. Most ex-Mai-Mai troops are Swahiliphones from the east who belong to ethnic groups that define themselves as “autochthones” (the first/native inhabitants of the area). “Autochthones” have tense relations with “Rwandophones”, who are speakers of Kinyarwanda language (encompassing both Tutsi and Hutu) and equally originate from the east (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013a).

Rwandophones dominated both the RCD and the Congrès National pour la Défense du Peuple (CNDP), a rebel group that integrated into the FARDC in 2009. Due to their political and military weight, both these groups, which remained intact as patronage networks in the FARDC, were privileged in the distribution of ranks and positions. When the CNDP joined the FARDC, the Integrated Brigades were broken up and replaced by brigades deployed under a new operational command created for the Kivu provinces, from 2010 onward called “Amani Leo.” The ex-CNDP had preponderant influence over the Amani Leo command, maintaining parallel systems of command, intelligence, logistics, and armament (United Nations Security Council [UNSC], 2010). An effort to reduce their influence in 2011 by breaking up the operational brigades and creating regiments largely failed. It was only in 2012, when a part of the ex-CNDP deserted and launched a new rebellion, that this network’s influence in the FARDC waned (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013a).

While differences in treatment often result predominantly from asymmetries in political weight, FARDC personnel tend to ascribe them primarily to identity, understood in an essentialized manner. For instance, many former Mai-Mai and ex-government troops attribute their alleged marginalization in the FARDC to the command chain being “dominated” by Rwandophones (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013a). In the words of an NCO: “The Banyamulenge [a Rwandophone Tutsi group] officers always want to dominate the Bantu [considered autochthones]. They impose themselves, they always want to be the chief. This is why there are conflicts here in the east.” Rwandophones, in turn, in particular Tutsi military personnel, also feel discriminated against in the military. A former FARDC company commander testified:

When you get into trouble with your subordinates, it suddenly matters that you are a Tutsi. I was closely monitoring my soldiers. They were engaging in all sorts of illicit business like extortion and cheating, putting up barriers and producing alcohol (…) One evening I called them to explain they should change their behavior but they got angry. The next days they were whispering behind my back. Then one evening three of them came up to me saying: ‘if you do not tone down, you Tutsi, we will shoot you’. How can I serve in such a military?

Effects on Institutional Cohesion: Conflicts, Parallelisms, and Bad Soldiering

Rebel–military integration is not the only factor contributing to limited institutional cohesion in the FARDC. In fact, the most important patronage network in the FARDC is not an ex-rebel force but emanates from the presidential military office, the maison militaire. This office controls much of the core general staff and ministry of defense functions, including procurement, logistics, military intelligence, the presidential guard, and appointments to key positions. It also has “clients” among commanders of the most important brigades or regiments, occasionally giving them orders while bypassing the regular command chain (the general staff in Kinshasa and the commands of the defense zones and military regions; International Crisis Group [ICG], 2006).

The maison militaire promotes measures that lead to constant reappointments of command and staff functions, including frequent reorganizations (e.g., the creation of the Amani Leo structures and the regiments). The reasons for this are twofold. First, frequent rotations of office prevent officers from building up an autonomous power position, thus keeping them dependent on, and hence loyal to, the presidential circle. Second, the flux resulting from constant changes in positions fosters ongoing competition between different patronage networks. This competition keeps the military divided and therefore prevents it from becoming a threat to the president’s power (Verweijen, 2015; cf. Bayart, 1989/2006).

A key stake in this ongoing competition is access to income-generation opportunities. Many top officers in the FARDC are involved in a wide range of economic activities, such as import/export trade, natural resources exploitation, or real estate (UNSC, 2010; Verweijen, 2013). Enrichment in the higher echelons encourages revenue generation lower down the command chain, in part as it leads to the embezzlement of funds destined for the rank and file, such as money for health care and rations. At the same time, soldiers’ wages are very low (around US$100 a month, which does not allow for maintaining even a small family), and there are no social services or benefits, such as family assistance. Soldiers even have to partly pay for basic items and services themselves, such as transport for rotations and health care. Consequently, they solicit such services from civilians but at much lower tariffs and sometimes without paying. Due to the scarcity of barracks and tents, FARDC troops also have to arrange their own accommodation, generally staying in rooms and houses rented from civilians. To finance these expenses and maintain a basic standard of living, soldiers engage in revenue generation, both individually (e.g., petty trade) and with their units (e.g., illegal taxation at roadblocks and mining sites). Superiors commonly oblige their subordinates to cede a part of the collectively generated revenues. Each commander, in turn, has to transmit a share of that money to their own patrons higher up in the hierarchy. Not obeying this imperative is potentially costly, as it can lead to being dismissed or transferred to other, less lucrative jobs or areas (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013b; Verweijen, 2013, 2015).

The drive for revenue generation sparks conflicts between patronage networks. Patrons try to influence appointments of both themselves and their clients, striving for command positions and deployment to lucrative areas, such as mining sites or border posts. However, they can withdraw their support for such deployment any moment or be overruled by rivals, causing their clients to lose their position and income. The ever-present possibility of a sudden loss of position prompts military personnel to accumulate the maximum of resources while they can (Verweijen, 2013). Additionally, ongoing power struggles may drive officers to exploit their official position to block opponents, for instance, by manipulating the military justice system. ² To be shielded against the resulting political and economic insecurity, military personnel are prompted to solicit protection from powerful patrons who can influence the military leadership and military justice system (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013b; cf. Chabal & Daloz, 1999).

Conflicts and competition between patronage networks do not only undermine institutional cohesion but also have detrimental effects on operational effectiveness, as they hamper collaboration and information sharing. Moreover, the preoccupation with revenue generation diverts both attention and resources from military duties (UNSC, 2010). Additionally, the urge to promote factional influence and business interests often induces collusion with armed groups, leading for instance to information leaks and the conclusion of informal “nonaggression pacts” (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013a; UNSC, 2010). Enrichment by the higher echelons and superiors’ collusion with enemy forces, in combination with poor service conditions, also undermine soldiers’ combat motivation. Many soldiers hesitate risking their lives for an institution that neglects them or for superiors believed to be in cahoots with the enemy (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013a).

These sentiments point to military personnel’s weak bonding with the military institution, the second form of institutional cohesion described earlier. An important cause of this weakness is discrepancies between idealized notions of soldiering and the lived experiences of serving in the FARDC. Congolese soldiers’ conceptualizations of “good soldiering” revolve around dignity, morality, order, and discipline, including respect for the hierarchy. Another central notion is patriotism, reflected in soldiers’ understanding of their mandate as “defending the country’s territorial integrity and protecting the population and their goods” (Eriksson Baaz & Stern, 2008; Verweijen, 2015). These various ideals are to be realized through education, training, and good living and service conditions. This idealized image of soldiering, however, is almost diametrically opposed to soldiers’ lived realities (Eriksson Baaz & Stern, 2008). In everyday life, FARDC personnel experience to belong to the poorest segments of society, to operate in disorganization and with variable discipline, to have limited access to training and education and few prospects of social mobility, and to serve in an organization where parochial interests rather than self-sacrifice for the fatherland dominate (Verweijen, 2015).

The discrepancies between soldiering as it is and soldiering as it should be cause FARDC personnel from all backgrounds to feel disappointed, disillusioned, neglected, and disrespected by the military organization (see also Eriksson Baaz & Stern, 2008). As a popular expression in the FARDC goes: Nous avons des militaires, mais pas d’armée (we have soldiers but no military). A substantial part of the FARDC personnel interviewed indicated they would rather leave military service, provided they had the means and possibility to find alternative sources of income—which most said they had not. In the absence of pensions (rules for which exist on paper but are not implemented), the difficulty to find alternative income also keeps those ripe for retirement in active service. A 60-year-old ex-FAZ soldier explained: “The Congolese military is like corvée (forced labor) and one is forced to stay there until death.” In spite of the alleged difficulties to leave the military, desertion rates appear to be high (Verweijen, 2015). This points not only to low institutional cohesion but also to low levels of bonding with the primary and secondary group (Griffith, 2002; Henderson, 1985).

Another factor that undermines institutional cohesion in the FARDC is the experienced limited societal appreciation for the FARDC. As a corporal explained:

Being a soldier is to sacrifice oneself. It is a work of sacrifice. You die because of people that you do not know. But civilians have an easy life. Despite the deaths, the population doesn’t accept you, doesn’t appreciate you. And if you quit, the population doesn’t accept you either. We will always be seen like malfaiteurs (wrongdoers).

Effects on Horizontal Cohesion: Survival Solidarity and Survival Patronage

The patronage networks that FARDC soldiers are embedded in diverge in strength, scope, cohesiveness, and the nature of the social interaction that they regulate. Where military patrons are powerful, they are able to provide significant services to their clients, such as influencing their appointments and deployments. Where they are weaker, they may not be able to influence the military hierarchy on important decisions but still help their clients, for instance, by granting them access to revenue-generating opportunities in their personal businesses (Verweijen, 2015). Hence, patronage networks shape soldiers’ living and service conditions but not in equal degree. The result is inequalities between personnel serving in the same unit, provided they are part of different patronage networks, which is most often (but not always) the case.

These inequalities, which are generally less pronounced among the lowest ranks, have an important impact on “community of experience,” which in the FARDC largely centers on basic needs provision and sharing the hardships of daily life. FARDC soldiers in the same primary unit help each other with basic tasks such as constructing shelter, searching for firewood and water, and small-scale revenue generation (e.g., charcoal production). Such social interaction generates forms of “despair solidarity” (Bilakila, 2004, p. 23) or pragmatic and practically oriented solidarity that revolves around mutual assistance in the struggle for survival. Although its effects are undermined by the frequent break up of brigades due to reorganizations, such solidarity fosters horizontal cohesion. Commenting on the hardships they experienced in the camp where they were mixed with rebel forces, one NCO said: “Despite some difficulties, people always manage (…) People suffered, but that did not disturb the education. This is military endurance (…) It has contributed to developing esprit d’équipe (team spirit).” Hence, similar to what Moskos (1970) observed, cohesion in the FARDC has an instrumental dimension, being in part an outcome of self-interest in the struggle for survival. However, where self-interest requires loyalty to networks outside one’s unit, attention from and commitment toward one’s peers is deflected. Given the harsh conditions in the FARDC, support from such patronage networks, however limited, is often crucial to ensuring that soldiers remain committed to their job. Hence paradoxically, while patronage networks weaken institutional cohesion, they ultimately also help prevent the military from falling apart (Verweijen, 2015).

One reason why basic needs provision plays a central role in fostering cohesion among lower ranks in the FARDC is that the other two dimensions of “community of experience”(training and common tasks) have limited or ambivalent effects. As mentioned, training in the FARDC is rare. Furthermore, while troops regularly conduct military tasks together, including military operations, the impact on peer bonding is mixed (Verweijen, 2015). In some cases, frontline experiences reinforce comradeship. For instance, soldiers of a platoon who displayed a considerable level of mutual bonding highlighted their pride in having carried out operations against the rebel group Forces Républicaines Fédéralistes in the cold and impenetrable Bijabo forest in South Kivu. Aside from shared hardships, these operations promoted comradeship through common dislike of “the enemy” who was in this case of Tutsi origins, while the unit members identified themselves as “Bantu” (non-Tutsi). Yet in other cases, joint military operations were observed to sow discord and division, especially when ending in failure and when soldiers already distrusted one another. In such situations, mistakes and a (perceived) lack of efforts evoked the suspicion of backstabbing and betrayal. One soldier related for instance how his unit had lost the way during an offensive against a Mai-Mai group due to wrong directions given by an ex-Mai Mai unit member, which elicited suspicion he was in connivance with the enemy, although he had belonged to a different Mai-Mai group.

Distrust among soldiers is particularly high where soldiers in the same primary unit are tied into competing patronage networks that are linked to antagonistically defined identity categories, a situation that impacts “commonality of identification and beliefs.” Differences in identification also become more salient where the associated patronage networks offer high levels of protection, causing pronounced inequality in service conditions and statuses among group members. In such cases, identities become markers of perceived favoritism and power inequalities and start working as a divisionary mechanism (Verweijen, 2015). For instance, one NCO from the western Congo commented on his colleagues: “The soldiers [from the west] have now such a bad reputation that they [soldiers from the east] say ‘Lingala is the language of thieves (ya bavoyoux)’. They have turned against the basemalingala (those who speak Lingala).” At the moment he pronounced these words, the regiment of which he was part was subject to important conflicts, as the members from one specific ex-rebel network used their dominance in the command to favor their own group.

Effects on Vertical and Organizational Cohesion: mauvais père de famille

The factors constituting “community of experience” and “commonality of identification and beliefs” do not only undermine horizontal cohesion but also affect bonding between subordinates and commanders both in primary and in secondary units, albeit sometimes in slightly different ways or degrees. For instance, the frequent break up of units harms “community of experience” even stronger in the case of commander–subordinate relations, as it forces troops to adjust each time to new command styles. In the words of a sergeant:

All the time changes is not good, because we are not stable. A chef knows the behavior of his soldiers and the soldiers know their chef and that eases the work (…). There are many changes but one commander is soft, the other one is strict, so we do not know how to adapt ourselves.

The effects of nonmeritocratic appointments on cohesion are aggravated by their impact on “community of experience”. When commanders are perceived to be incompetent and inexperienced, joint tasks and activities might foster conflicts, distrust, and irritations, rather than cohesion (Verweijen, 2015). This applies particularly to combat operations leading to defeat, failure, or casualties—negative experiences that are often blamed on commanders’ lack of competence or their doubtful loyalty and motivations. Suspect loyalty is most often invoked when commanders belong to certain identity groups that are distrusted, pointing to interaction effects with “commonality of identification and beliefs.” Ultimately, such aggravated distrust may lead to insubordination (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013a). A former NCO explained:

It is extremely difficult to carry out badly given orders for professional military. We say: ‘a badly given order might not be executed’, especially when it causes many deaths. For example, if you fight against Rwandans [i.e. a certain Rwandan rebel group], you will know that at some point they will outflank: therefore you need to send two sections to the sides. However, if the commanding officer does not know, he will send all troops straight ahead but they will be encircled by the enemy. We know this from experience, but our commander went ahead and then many troops died. When this happened we rebelled against him and withdrew.

As has already become clear, FARDC officers rarely live up to these idealized expectations of commanding. In the words of one soldier, an FARDC commander is often a “mauvais père de famille” (bad head of the household). Patronage-related pressures are an important cause of such deficient performance. Commanders simultaneously have obligations toward their hierarchy, their troops, their clients, and their patrons, having to provide the latter with regular financial contributions to maintain their position. Yet they also use the resources appropriated from their subordinates for purposes of self-enrichment, causing immense asymmetries in wealth, and signifying limited commitment to soldiers’ well-being and to the unit and its goals. As a lieutenant stated:

The wife of the deputy commander lives next to the wife of the colonel, because she has nothing to eat. And when he, who has a big house, gives orders, do you think that he who has nothing is going to obey? (…) The distances between the high-ranking and the low-ranking are simply too big (…) They cheat us. We have nothing, absolutely nothing (…) I have a bad cough but not even enough money to get medicine. They will not even give you a paracetamol [pain killer] when you are sick. No nothing, not even a single Franc congolais [Congolese currency]! They do not care if we die.

The problem of preferential treatment can also be found in relation to practices of disciplining and punishment. Commanders may be more lenient toward their own favorites in the unit as well as toward subordinates that are embedded in other, more powerful patronage networks. The latter may interfere in commanders’ disciplining practices to protect their clients, for instance, by asking them not to refer a case to the military prosecutor’s office (Eriksson Baaz & Verweijen, 2013b). Such practices promote discontent not only toward commanders but also toward colleagues, as those who have transgressed are not punished according to the rules. In this manner, patronage interference in disciplining also undermines horizontal cohesion.