Why the West conspired to murder Patrice Lumumba: The unforgivable crime of sovereignty

Dar es Salaam. In August 1960, as Congo simmered in post-independence instability, a secret cable marked ‘Top Secret’ from Langley, Virginia, landed at the CIA station in Léopoldville (now Kinshasa).

The message was terse and deadly: “We conclude that his removal must be an urgent and prime objective.” The “his” referred to Patrice Lumumba, Congo’s first democratically elected Prime Minister.

 His crime was not communism or radicalism, it was believing that Congo, which attained its independence from Belgium on June 30, 1960, should belong to the Congolese.

What followed became one of the most ruthless political assassinations of the 20th century.

Backed by the United States and Belgium, and aided by local collaborators, Lumumba’s elimination was the product of a Cold War calculus that viewed African independence not as a triumph, but as a threat to Western control.

At the heart of the crisis was Congo’s extraordinary natural wealth.

The country was a geopolitical prize: home to the Shinkolobwe mine, which supplied uranium which the US used to manufacture the Hiroshima nuclear bomb in 1945.

This mine which was controlled by Belgian firm, Union Minière, also held the world’s largest reserves believed to be 60 percent of global supply, vital for Cold War jet engines, along with diamonds, rubber, and copper worth billions of dollars to European conglomerates.

When Congo gained independence from Belgium on June 30, 1960, it was not seen by Western powers as a new democracy but as a ticking time bomb.

Lumumba’s bold Independence Day speech, delivered in front of King Baudouin and a global audience, rejected colonial paternalism and denounced the brutality of Belgian rule.

“No Congolese will ever forget that independence was won in struggle!” he said in his independence speech. His words ignited pride across Africa, but fury in Western capitals.

Belgium quickly moved to protect its interests. It froze Congo’s assets and backed the secession of the mineral-rich Katanga province under Moïse Tshombe.

Lumumba, desperate to hold the country together, did the unthinkable, he turned to the only power willing to assist, the Soviet Union.

It was a tactical move, but it set off panic in Washington and elsewhere.

Although Lumumba had no ties to Moscow or Marxist ideology, the CIA painted him as a Soviet pawn.

CIA Director, Allen Dulles, labelled him “a Castro in Africa.” President Eisenhower reportedly gave the order for his assassination. In classified 1960 cables and memos, Lumumba was branded “unstable,” “dangerous,” and “beyond control.”

In truth, he was independent and could not be bought, traits that made him an enemy in a world carved up by empires.

In response, the CIA launched ‘Operation Wizard’, a covert mission to eliminate him.

Agents considered poisoning his toothpaste, attempted to bribe parliamentarians to oust him, and backed a military coup led by ColonelJoseph-Désiré Mobutu.

When Mobutu seized power, Lumumba was arrested, beaten, and eventually transferred, under the watchful eye of Western operatives, to Katanga.

On January 17, 1961, Lumumba was executed. His final words, reportedly, were: “You are killing Africa.”

His body was later dissolved in acid. One Belgian officer, Gérard Soete, kept a tooth from Lumumba’s corpse as a souvenir, a grotesque symbol of colonial cruelty.

For years, the official story was that Lumumba was killed in tribal violence. It was only in 2002 that Belgium formally admitted “moral responsibility.”

The United States acknowledged “complicity” but has never apologised.

The real reasons for Lumumba’s murder are now clear, supported by declassified documents and witness testimony.

First, he threatened Western control of strategic resources. His plan to nationalize Congo’s mines jeopardized billions of dollars in Western investments.

Second, he was incorruptible and refused to be a puppet.

Third, his anti-colonial rhetoric and pan-African alliances terrified leaders in Washington, London, and Brussels.

Fourth, he sought Soviet aid when abandoned by the West, a pragmatic move that was framed as ideological betrayal.

Finally, his mere presence as a proud, charismatic African leader challenged the racialized power structures of the Cold War era.

After Lumumba’s death, Mobutu, installed with CIA support, ruled Congo for 32 years.

He plundered state coffers, looted an estimated $5 billion, and left the country mired in poverty.

A 2023 UN report found that 75 percent of Congo’s mining industry remains controlled by foreign corporations.

Lumumba, in his final letter from prison, wrote, “Neither brutality, nor cruelty, nor torture will ever bring me to ask for mercy, for I prefer to die with my head held high, with unshakable faith and deep confidence in the destiny of my country.”

His words remain a haunting indictment of neocolonialism. He was not martyred because he was a radical. He was killed because he insisted that the wealth of Congo should benefit its people.

Today, Patrice Lumumba stands as a symbol of what could have been, a visionary leader whose only sin was believing that African sovereignty was non-negotiable.

His life and death continue to echo in every struggle for justice, dignity, and true independence across the continent.