The age of the Apocalypse is upon us. Or at least its latest variant. As the cruise ship Hantavirus outbreak predictably petered out, the distressing Ebola virus outbreak in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and Uganda has brought a brief spasm of global attention to these beleaguered nations. Both are African states already beset with endemic deadly infectious diseases—notably tuberculosis and malaria—but also with extreme poverty, underdeveloped infrastructure, and in the case of DRC an internal armed conflict with the insurgent “March 23 Movement” (M23). The background to this conflict is complex: the paramilitary M23 formed in the aftermath of the Second Congo War (1998-2003), with its members comprised of Tutsi militia ostensibly offering protection to Tutsis living in DRC. Yet M23 also retains backing from the neighboring Rwandan government. Naturally, in this ethnic and territorial dispute, claim and bloody counterclaim abound.
War, famine and pestilence have long remained a common feature in parts of modern Africa, which has also undergone more than its fair share of conquest. Famously, Francis Ford Coppola’s 1979 Vietnam War film Apocalypse Now was inspired by Joseph Conrad’s 1899 serialized novella Heart of Darkness, set in the Congo Free State (CFS). CFS at the time was privately owned by King Leopold II of Belgium, who had pledged to end the African slave trade at the Berlin Conference of 1884-85 as a justification for his personal dream of colonizing the Congo river basin.
Heart of Darkness played a significant role in highlighting the atrocities and exploitation of resources involved in the violent subjugation of “free” Congo natives under Leopold’s administrative apparatus, and led to an increased outcry internationally and within Belgium. Such was the revulsion that that the term “crimes against humanity” first came to prominence after American civil rights activist George Washington Williams wrote an open letter to King Leopold II. Yet it would not be until 1908 that the Belgium government annexed CFS from Leopold and re-administrated the colony as Belgian Congo. Some years after independence was won from Belgium in 1960, the state was for a period recognized as Zaire, before adopting its current appellation DRC after the 1996-97 First Congo War.
Such was the revulsion that that the term “crimes against humanity” first came to prominence after American civil rights activist George Washington Williams wrote an open letter to King Leopold II.
For many Westerners ignorant of DRC’s post-colonial history, Ebola has caught our imagination, no doubt provoked by the fear that this gruesome and sporadic virus with a zoonotic reservoir will escape Africa. The World Health Organization (WHO) has declared a “Public Health Emergency of International Concern” (PHEIC), whilst the formerly-of-the-WHO USA intends to quarantine in Kenya US citizens who have been exposed to Ebola in Africa—so far, this plan has been met with resistance in the Kenyan courts and street protests.
International medical commentators have been quick to declare that epidemics can be prevented with enough biosurveillance. Biosurveillance is of course of great potential benefit for early action and containment of diseases with recognizable specific symptoms (such as the spontaneous bleeding from orifices of Ebola), and also, more powerfully, for the establishment and distribution of healthcare resources. But is the state of DRC in a position to build and maintain the infrastructure required? And even if this magically became so, would biosurveillance in the pursuit of Ebola do anything at all to resolve and alleviate the numerous other miseries endemic to the region?
Would biosurveillance in the pursuit of Ebola do anything at all to resolve and alleviate the numerous other miseries endemic to the region?
Suspicion of biomedical apparatuses is already high in DRC, after the Covid lockdown imposed under a state of emergency in March 2020, which led to riots taking place against a Covid treatment and quarantine center in eastern DRC, after a man was allegedly shot dead for breaking curfew in June 2020. Indeed, as seen with early street protests in Kenya it is likely that Western attempts to impose biosurveillance and quarantine on DRC, Kenya and other African nations will be resisted by locals and opposition political parties. The African Centre for the Constructive Resolution of Disputes (ACCORD) has recently issued a statement raising concerns that biosurveillance is becoming primarily a means of securitization of the state rather than as a tool to foster citizens’ health. As seen during Covid, rapid expansion of state power and erosion of citizens’ freedoms can be introduced via fallible biotechnology—such as testing administered regardless of whether an individual is sick or not. Under such securitization in the name of global health, sooner or later, every one of us becomes a potential threat rather than someone in need of care.
Of course, once the current Ebola outbreak cools, agitated Westerners will move their attention elsewhere—and in all likelihood even before then. Neglect of other infectious and non-infectious diseases was commonplace during Covid, as the political center was captured by the zeitgeist of apocalyptic doomerism. Our current Western political dynamic follows a clear pattern of apocalyptic framing of issues in order to gain attention—and votes —whether it be pandemics, nuclear armageddon, climate change, migration, AI, “end of Western Civilization”, or the “far-right” opposition that has developed in response to the perceived erosion of nations’ sovereignty post-World War II.
But there will be no apocalypse. As Conrad’s character Kurtz articulated in his famous, final epiphany: “The horror! The horror!”—war, famine, pestilence and conquest have always been unfortunate bedfellows of humanity. And for better or worse, we can always expect humanity to adapt to and endure horror in unexpected and unlooked for ways.
