In what is being hailed as a diplomatic breakthrough, the governments of Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) signed a historic peace accord on June 27, 2025, in Washington, D.C. The agreement, brokered by the United States and Qatar, outlines a detailed roadmap aimed at ending decades of bloodshed in the Great Lakes region of Africa. Aptly named the Washington Peace Accord, this deal attempts to tackle both the symptoms and root causes of one of the world’s longest-running conflicts.

One of the most immediate and concrete steps in the agreement is Rwanda’s commitment to withdraw all its military forces from eastern DRC within 90 days. This isn’t just a vague promise scribbled on a piece of paper, it includes a formal mechanism for monitoring and verification. That means third-party observers will ensure compliance, helping rebuild trust between two nations that have long accused each other of interference and backdoor aggression.

To further reduce the risk of renewed conflict, the accord mandates the creation of a joint security coordination mechanism. This must be operational within 30 days of the signing. Its purpose is to facilitate direct communication between Rwandan and Congolese forces, ensuring real-time updates and coordination to avoid misunderstandings, accidental clashes, or covert military maneuvers.

On the other side of the equation, the DRC has agreed to scale down its military campaign against the FDLR—the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda—within that same 90-day period. The FDLR is a Hutu militia with roots going back to the 1994 Rwandan genocide, and its presence has long been used by Rwanda as justification for military operations inside Congo. The new plan focuses on the “neutralization” of this group, hinting at a more measured, perhaps diplomatic, approach rather than relying solely on military action.

Perhaps one of the most complex elements of the accord is its framework for dealing with the vast patchwork of non-state armed groups that operate in the region. Rather than offering blanket amnesty or integration, the deal proposes a policy of disarmament and conditional integration into the Congolese security forces. Only those individuals who pass a vetting process—and are not implicated in war crimes or other serious offenses—would be eligible for inclusion in the army or police. This is intended to professionalize Congo’s security services while removing incentives for armed rebellion.

Equally significant is the mutual pledge by both nations to respect each other’s territorial sovereignty. This includes a commitment to cease all forms of material or logistical support to insurgent groups like M23 or the FDLR. Given the long history of proxy warfare and regional meddling, this provision could be a game-changer if honored.

Addressing the region’s massive humanitarian crisis, the agreement also outlines steps for the safe, dignified, and voluntary return of refugees and internally displaced persons. With millions uprooted by years of conflict, this element is not just symbolic, it’s a moral and practical necessity.

Finally, the accord looks beyond the battlefield toward economic recovery. Both nations agreed to help establish a regional economic integration framework within 90 days. The goal is to stabilize and regulate the mining of critical minerals—such as cobalt and tantalum—that are vital to global technology and defense industries. By inviting Western investment and improving transparency, the hope is to turn the region’s rich resources from a curse into a blessing.

In sum, the Washington Peace Accord is ambitious in scope and bold in vision. It combines immediate security measures with long-term plans for disarmament, reintegration, refugee repatriation, and economic revival. Whether it holds or not will depend on enforcement, good faith, and prayer, but as peace agreements go, this one pulls no punches.

Hope Rooted in Order

For many observers, the Washington Peace Accord represents a long-overdue opportunity to bring lasting order and dignity to a part of the world too often overlooked by the international community. Eastern Congo has, for decades, been synonymous with lawlessness, mass displacement, and endless exploitation. What sets this agreement apart is its layered approach: it doesn’t just slap a ceasefire on the problem and call it a day. It engages the military, humanitarian, and economic dimensions of the conflict in one unified strategy.

From a biblical standpoint, the accord echoes themes deeply rooted in Scripture: peace through strength, justice tempered by mercy, and the pursuit of redemption for the fallen. Isaiah 2:4 reminds us of God’s vision for the nations: that they “shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks.” In practical terms, that’s exactly what this agreement attempts to initiate: the disarmament of violent actors and their conditional transformation into contributing members of a lawful society. It’s not naïve optimism; it’s structured redemption, with accountability built in. And for those who truly repent and turn from violence, there should be room for reintegration and restoration.

The emphasis on returning displaced persons is another powerful positive. This isn’t just about numbers or logistics; it’s about people made in the image of God: families ripped apart by war, children growing up in tents instead of homes, farmers turned into refugees. In a region where millions have been uprooted, helping people return to their communities with dignity is not only a geopolitical win, it’s a moral victory.

Then there’s the economic angle, which, frankly, is long overdue. For too long, the mineral wealth of the DRC has been a curse, fueling corruption, enriching warlords, and driving foreign powers to manipulate internal politics. By creating a regional economic framework, the agreement lays the foundation for turning that curse into a blessing. A conservative principle at play here is economic self-sufficiency: let these nations benefit from their own God-given resources. If done right, this could usher in real prosperity—not dependency—through private investment, infrastructure development, and job creation. This is where peace becomes self-sustaining.

Also worth commending is the strength of U.S. leadership in brokering this deal. Unlike the empty words and weak-willed resolutions we often get from international bodies, this agreement comes with teeth. With the United States—under the resolute leadership of President Trump—guaranteeing enforcement and threatening serious penalties for violations, the accord has real accountability. This is not just diplomatic fluff; it’s a structured agreement backed by economic leverage, political will, and strategic interest. That’s the kind of foreign policy conservatives can stand behind: peace through strength, not appeasement.

All in all, this peace agreement isn’t perfect, but it’s principled. It balances justice and mercy, order and opportunity. It acknowledges the sins of the past while charting a path forward. For those of us who believe in the sanctity of life, the rule of law, national sovereignty, and individual redemption, there’s a lot to applaud here.

Caution Amid Celebration

While the Washington Peace Accord is drawing praise as a bold step toward stability in the Great Lakes region, not everyone is convinced it’s the breakthrough it claims to be. For all its ambition and structure, the deal contains serious blind spots and risks that, if left unaddressed, could render it another addition to the long list of failed peace efforts in the region.

Chief among these concerns is the glaring absence of the M23 rebel group. This isn’t some fringe militia. It’s arguably the most potent and active armed faction in eastern Congo. M23 has waged multiple campaigns against the Congolese government and is widely suspected of receiving covert support from Rwanda. Yet, they weren’t invited to sign the agreement and have flatly rejected its terms. How can we call this a comprehensive peace plan when one of the central players in the conflict remains on the battlefield, entirely unbound by the deal? It’s like signing a truce in a family feud without inviting the loudest cousin who started half the fights. Strategically, it leaves a gaping hole in the framework’s credibility and enforceability.

Then there’s the issue of justice, or rather, the lack of it. For all its talk of disarmament and reintegration, the accord offers no pathway for addressing the deep wounds inflicted over decades of war. War crimes, sexual violence, child soldier recruitment, and ethnic massacres have marred the region’s history. Yet the accord sidesteps this reality, offering no mechanism for truth-telling, no tribunal for accountability, and no reparations for victims. Dr. Denis Mukwege, a devout Christian, Nobel Peace Prize laureate, and longtime advocate for survivors of sexual violence, has publicly condemned the deal for this reason. As believers, we are called to seek justice, not just peace. Micah 6:8 doesn’t mince words: “What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” A peace that ignores justice isn’t peace, it’s a temporary pause before the next explosion.

Skepticism also surrounds the motives of the United States. Yes, strong American diplomacy under President Trump helped bring Rwanda and the DRC to the table. But critics rightly wonder if the true driving force behind this deal is access to critical minerals like cobalt, lithium, and tantalum, resources essential for the electric vehicle boom and military tech. If mineral security, not human dignity, is the guiding star, we run the risk of replacing warlords with multinationals. Resource extraction without ethical oversight could turn this so-called peace into a new form of economic colonization. That would be trading one form of exploitation for another, and as conservatives who value both national sovereignty and local enterprise, we should be wary of such arrangements.

History also gives us every reason to be cautious. This isn’t the first time a high-profile peace deal has promised to end the violence in eastern Congo. The 2002 Pretoria Agreement, the 2009 Goma Accords, and the 2013 Kampala talks all fell apart under the weight of corruption, mistrust, and lack of enforcement. Without meaningful follow-through and grassroots legitimacy, even the most well-written accords are little more than fancy paperwork. Past failures should humble even the most optimistic observers.

Finally, some see the agreement as subtly legitimizing foreign influence, especially Rwanda’s role in eastern Congo. By establishing joint security mechanisms without clear boundaries, the deal might inadvertently give Rwanda a pass to continue exerting control under the guise of cooperation. For a country like the DRC, which has struggled for decades to assert full sovereignty over its own territory, this could set a troubling precedent. A peace deal that trades sovereignty for security is a risky bargain, one that might cost more than it saves in the long run.

In short, while the Washington Accord is a step in the right direction, it is by no means the final destination. The concerns raised by critics—about justice, inclusion, sovereignty, and motive—are not petty or partisan; they’re moral, strategic, and historically grounded. For this deal to truly bring peace, it must be expanded, corrected, and held accountable every step of the way. Without that, we risk mistaking a handshake for healing.

Conclusion: Discernment and Duty

As an independent Christian conservative, I’m not in the business of blind optimism or cynical dismissal. Christians are called to be “wise as serpents, and harmless as doves” (Matthew 10:16): discerning in our judgments, yet grounded in mercy. And when it comes to the Washington Peace Accord between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, that balance of discernment and mercy is exactly what’s required.

There is real, tangible promise in this agreement. For the first time in years, we see both governments publicly committing to steps that, if implemented sincerely, could start to uncoil the tangled mess of armed conflict, foreign interference, and humanitarian disaster that has defined eastern Congo for far too long. Military withdrawal, disarmament, reintegration of former fighters, the return of displaced families, and economic cooperation, these are not small goals. And to the credit of the Trump administration and its allies in Qatar, this wasn’t just another photo op. There are teeth to this deal. There are deadlines. There are consequences. And that gives it a fighting chance.

More importantly, it echoes key biblical values: the pursuit of peace with justice, the restoration of the broken, and the dignity of the oppressed. It speaks to the possibility of repentance, reconciliation, and rebuilding, not just for governments, but for individuals and families who have lived too long under the shadow of war.

But let’s not pretend the road ahead is smooth or guaranteed. Serious weaknesses remain, none more glaring than the absence of M23 at the negotiating table, and the complete omission of any framework for truth-telling or justice for the countless victims of rape, massacre, and displacement. That’s not just a political misstep; it’s a moral one. As Scripture teaches in Proverbs 21:15, “It is joy to the just to do judgment: but destruction shall be to the workers of iniquity.” Peace built on amnesia is peace destined to unravel. If justice is delayed indefinitely, it is, in essence, denied.

Likewise, the heavy emphasis on economic development—while important—must not morph into a modern-day scramble for Congo’s riches. We cannot support peace that enriches foreign investors while leaving the Congolese poor as destitute as ever. If cobalt and coltan are the only things the world sees in the Congo, then the world is still blind.

So where do I stand? I offer this agreement my cautious, conditional support, not because it is perfect, but because it is a serious attempt to bring peace where peace has long seemed impossible. I pray it will be a steppingstone, not a stumbling block. And I urge American leadership, African civil society, the global Church, and ordinary citizens alike to hold all parties accountable, not just to the letter of the agreement, but to the spirit of justice, compassion, and truth.

Psalm 85:10 paints a picture we should all strive toward: “Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.” That is the gold standard for any peace effort: not peace at the cost of righteousness, and not justice without grace, but both walking hand in hand. If the Washington Peace Accord moves us even one step closer to that, then it is worth supporting. But if it fails to pursue both mercy and truth, then no matter how glittering its promises are, it will not endure.

Let us not merely hope for peace. Let us pray for peace with justice. Let us speak truth to power. And let us never forget that real peace—the kind that lasts—is the fruit of righteousness, not convenience.