MONUSCO’s Drawdown and the Dec 2025 UNSC Mandate on the DRC: A Critical African Security Assessment of Strategic Risks, State Fragility, and Regional Complexities

Introduction

The December 2025 Security Council resolution renewing the mandate of the UN Organization Stabilization Mission in the DRC (MONUSCO) marks a clear shift in tone and emphasis. Rather than expanding efforts to stabilize the country, the new mandate effectively lays the groundwork for a gradual UN withdrawal. Its language stresses Congolese sovereignty and capacity-building to protect civilians, while limiting MONUSCO’s area of operations to North Kivu and Ituri (with only conditional support in South Kivu). In practice, this reflects a strategic retreat: MONUSCO’s core tasks (civilian protection, ceasefire monitoring and disarmament support) remain on paper, but the mission is now explicitly on a “progressive, responsible and sustainable” drawdown pathway. Compared to previous mandates that focused on active stabilization across all conflict zones, the 2025 resolution is notably weaker. It prioritizes handing over responsibility to Congolese institutions rather than bolstering UN enforcement. It even renews the Force Intervention Brigade (FIB) “on an exceptional basis” – an awkward caveat that underlines how atypical and limited that offensive component has become. In short, the new mandate is less robust than before: it closes in on the core rebellion areas but largely steps back from wider engagement, effectively accepting that MONUSCO will shrink in the coming year.

Several factors contribute to the resolution’s reduced effectiveness. First, the authorized troop ceiling is unchanged, but the mission’s scope is confined. Large swaths of eastern DRC (much of Ituri and North Kivu, and especially South Kivu outside ceasefire monitoring) will see diminishing UN presence. At the same time, the resolution emphasizes Congolese-led security, insisting that Kinshasa strengthen its own army and police to fill the gap. In theory this is sensible, but in reality, it assumes an immediate leap in DRC capacity that simply isn’t there. Key functions like civilian protection and coordination with local communities often fall short under Congolese forces. By placing greater burden on the national government – which still suffers from corruption, limited reach and uneven professionalism – the mandate may overstretch weak institutions. Moreover, the call for “national ownership” comes amid a backdrop of contested legitimacy: the government’s own forces have been accused of abuses, and its control beyond provincial capitals is tenuous. In effect, the resolution skirts the hard work of improving protection on the ground and instead focuses on phasing out the UN.

Second, the new resolution offers no innovative tools to change the battlefield dynamics. It condemns the M23 rebellion and Rwandan involvement (in broad language), but it does so with careful diplomatic phrasing. Unlike earlier drafts that pushed for stronger enforcement or new sanctions, this text accepts near-consensus compromises. For example, permanent members cautioned against “politicizing” MONUSCO, so the tough wording on Rwanda’s role is framed in general terms (“neighbouring states”) rather than naming Kigali directly. Any momentum for novel measures – such as a robust arms embargo enforcement or targeted missions against support networks – is absent. Essentially, the Council reaffirmed the same “Protection of Civilians” and disarmament mandate as before but backed away from any ambition of expanding MONUSCO’s reach or capabilities. The result is a familiar formula dressed in exit strategy clothes. In practical terms, observers view this as a weaker outcome: it signals that the international community has largely run out of appetite for a costly, open-ended commitment. Instead of pressing the pause button on conflict drivers, the resolution is quietly setting a timeline to shut down most UN operations.

MONUSCO’s Role and Troop-Contributing Countries

MONUSCO under the new mandate will remain the single largest armed international presence in eastern DRC. Its formal tasks – protecting civilians, deterring armed group attacks, supporting a ceasefire implementation mechanism (the Doha Framework), and assisting DDR and security sector reform – are unchanged. Its authorized strength remains around 11,500 troops plus police. In practice, however, the mission is increasingly defensive and limited. Blue Helmets will focus on hotspots like Goma and Bunia, employing contingency bases and patrols. The Force Intervention Brigade (FIB) – created in 2013 as a rare offensive UN unit – is technically renewed but only as a one-year “exception” that sets no binding precedent. In short, MONUSCO can still fight armed groups if needed, but any major offensive push is politically constrained by the host government’s timetable for withdrawal.

The bulk of MONUSCO’s uniformed personnel come from a diverse set of troop-contributing countries (TCCs), most of which have little direct stake in Congolese politics. For example, the largest national contingents are from Asian countries (Bangladesh, India, Nepal, Indonesia) and some African countries (Kenya, Tanzania, Morocco, Malawi, South Africa). Police units are similarly drawn from a mix of African and Asian contributors (Senegal, Egypt, Bangladesh, India, Niger, Mali, etc.). This mix means that on the ground, MONUSCO represents a mosaic of external actors with varying priorities. Crucially, a number of these TCCs also have boots on the ground in the region outside the UN framework. Malawi, Tanzania and South Africa – all among MONUSCO’s top contributors – are also major contributors to the Southern African Development Community (SADC) mission in eastern DRC (SAMIDRC). This overlap has important implications. It means those countries are effectively wearing two hats: one under UN command and another under a regional African bloc. In practice, that can blur lines of command and accountability. For instance, a Tanzanian company might coordinate with fellow Tanzanians in MONUSCO one day and act with other SADC forces the next. While troop-sharing can improve local intelligence and cohesion, it also creates tensions. There is a risk that national agendas or resource constraints skew how these contingents deploy, rather than strict adherence to a unified UN doctrine.

Outside SADC, the DRC government has also invited an East African force to intervene. In 2023 the Congolese president requested a Regional Force under the auspices of the East African Community (EAC), expecting support from Uganda, Kenya, and other neighbours. Some EAC troops have since arrived, though their mandate has been murky. In effect, the EAC deployment targets rebel bands like the Allied Democratic Forces (ADF) and aspects of M23, while the SADC force was supposed to take on M23 more directly. Neither of these African contingents operates under UN command, however. They answer to the government of DRC and to their regional authorities (EAC or SADC), not to the UN Security Council. As a result, their rules of engagement and objectives can diverge from MONUSCO’s. For example, an EAC force might focus on securing a Ugandan border area at risk of ADF attacks, while the UN soldiers concentrate on protecting civilians in Goma. These parallel missions create both synergy and friction. On the positive side, they signify an African-led response and additional manpower. On the negative side, coordination is a perennial headache. Historically, SADC’s deployment struggled with unclear financing, poor logistics and limited combat power – ultimately leading SADC to withdraw forces early in 2025 after suffering setbacks. The East African force likewise has seen delays and mixed commitment (notably, Tanzania chose not to participate in the EAC mission to avoid provoking Rwanda).

In summary, MONUSCO’s role is now entangled with regional security initiatives. Its main difference is that MONUSCO has a broad mandate under an internationally backed resolution, whereas SADC/EAC forces have narrower mandates defined by the Congolese government. The overlap of personnel (especially from South Africa, Malawi, Tanzania) means collaboration is possible, but diverging political loyalties can also undercut unity. For instance, Kigali’s suspicion of Ugandan and Tanzanian troops has at times complicated joint efforts. The UN resolution tries to play diplomat by praising African efforts (it “places MONUSCO on the front line” of supporting AU, subregional and facilitated peace processes) while quietly preparing to hand over lead security roles. In practice, this mixed approach risks leaving gaps. If the UN pulls back too quickly, it will depend heavily on whether SADC or EAC forces can fill the vacuum – but as seen, they have their own limitations and competing interests.

Conflict Drivers: Beyond the “Resource Curse” Narrative

International discourse often emphasizes Congo’s mineral wealth as the root of its violence. Undeniably, the DRC is rich in cobalt, copper, tantalum and other minerals, and armed groups do extort or fight over mining areas. However, a narrow “conflict mineral” narrative is deeply misleading. The true drivers of instability are far more complex and internal. Foremost among them is weak governance. The Congolese state has long struggled to project authority beyond major cities. Courts, police, and administrative services are scarce in the countryside, leaving local communities vulnerable. In the vacuum, traditional authorities, warlords and militias often take on quasi-government roles – levying taxes, administering land disputes or dispensing “justice” outside any legal framework. When we see a Mai-Mai militia or an FDLR group controlling territory, it is usually because the state has been absent, not simply because a mine is nearby.

Other structural factors loom even larger than minerals. Endless factional competition among elites – from Kinshasa down to provincial capitals – fuels insecurity. Political leaders frequently arm loyalists to strengthen their local influence or to sway elections. Those private armies then commit abuses and spark fear among civilians. Ethnic tensions and local rivalries also play into this, but these too are often products of manipulation by politicians seeking control. In eastern provinces, it is common to hear grievances about government neglect, corruption, and competition over land or cattle, rather than just blame for mining. Warlords may well sell minerals on the side, but they began as community defence leaders or rebel commanders long before resource markets attracted outside traders.

In this context, the international fixation on minerals can be counterproductive. It risks absolving Congolese leaders of responsibility by suggesting external “loot markets” are to blame. In reality, many local conflicts are driven by everyday survival and politics – for example, cattle rustling, displacement camps, or clashes between farmers and livestock herders. Wealthy elites or foreign businesses do benefit from the DRC’s resources, and dirty money flows do perpetuate some conflicts. But these are symptoms of the deeper problem: a state unable to regulate its economy or provide basic security. Until governance gaps are addressed – through reforms, accountability, and inclusive politics – the stability of eastern Congo will remain elusive regardless of how the minerals are managed.

Key structural risks include:

• Institutional fragility: Chronic corruption, understaffed public services and an under-equipped justice system leave most crimes unpunished. The army (FARDC) itself is fragmented and often underpaid, making integration of former rebels or local militias fraught.
• Elite competition: Power struggles within DRC’s political class incentivize proxy militias. Politicians may even oppose robust UN action if it threatens their local allies.
• Local security vacuums: Rural communities often lack reliable security. In response, they either tolerate or recruit militias for protection, which in turn can turn predatory. This cycle of self-help security feeds fragmentation.
• Regional spillovers: History matters. Decades of cross-border wars mean that none of these problems stay contained. Rwanda and Uganda have strategic interests in the Kivus; their involvement predates and partly triggers today’s fighting. These neighbouring countries’ security and economic agendas have as much to do with Congo’s instability as any domestic issue.
• Economic marginalization: Vast poverty and limited state investment in the east breed resentment. Young people with no jobs or education are easily co-opted by armed groups. Competition for land and farming rights can spark violence independent of any mining project.

Together these factors make for a complex conflict mosaic. A UN resolution that focuses primarily on minerals – or even on military containment – will miss half the picture. An African security analysis must recognize that long-term stability will depend on political and development solutions: strengthening state institutions, reconciling local grievances, and integrating disenfranchised groups. Only then can any peacekeeping force hope to “finish the job.”

MONUSCO Drawdown: Civilian Protection and Local Power Vacuums

The resolution’s clear endorsement of a phased MONUSCO withdrawal raises urgent concerns about civilian protection. Over recent years MONUSCO has often been the only deterrent against mass atrocities in eastern DRC. Even if it could not cover everything, the presence of UN troops and observers at least imposed some international accountability on abusive factions (government or rebel). As the mission shrinks, many of those safeguards will erode. Civilians in remote or newly contested areas may find themselves entirely unprotected. Displacement camps and vulnerable villages will no longer have proximate Blue Helmets to patrol or respond when violence erupts. UN peacekeepers also played a crucial role in civilian early warning and mediation between communities. That institutional memory and trust cannot be replaced overnight. In practical terms, the drawdown could lead to spikes in kidnapping, rape, and inter-communal fighting that would go unchecked.

Local power vacuums are another serious risk. Wherever the UN or Congolese army withdraws, armed groups and local strongmen are likely to move in. This is already visible: when MONUSCO handed over bases in 2024, some areas quickly fell under rebel or militia control. As the resolution acknowledges, the withdrawal must be “progressive and sustainable” – but the reality is that any security vacuum tends to be seized fast. For example, if MONUSCO leaves a town unguarded, neighbouring militias may intimidate remaining civilians or loot public assets. Competing militias might even clash over the territory the UN leaves behind. In some places, ethnic tensions (such as between different clan groups in Ituri or among Banyamulenge) could flare up once observers depart, leading to local escalations.

Compounding these dynamics is the question of who fills the gap. The Congolese army (FARDC) is supposed to take over, but it has serious limitations. FARDC units in the east have been frequently demoralized or accused of human rights abuses themselves. Handing them control without strong oversight risks creating new predators. Meanwhile, SADC and EAC forces – already overstretched – may not have the bandwidth to police all the voids. The SADC mission, for instance, has already announced a phased withdrawal after failing to stabilize Goma. If African partners pull back or fail to coordinate, the vacuum could grow into a free-for-all. Humanitarian agencies warn that any increase in armed clan-based control will worsen the already dire humanitarian crisis: people may flee en-masse or be cut off from aid.

In effect, the drawdown turns UN peacekeeping into a gamble on a smooth transition. The resolution urges Kinshasa to strengthen state institutions at precisely the moment when UN boots are leaving. But investing in police, courts, and social services takes time – time that vulnerable communities under fire often do not have. The joint planning group mentioned in the resolution (including UN country team and Congolese authorities) may produce technical handover plans, but these cannot instantly replace a peacekeeping force’s deterrent effect. Civilians living under militia rule or in contested zones will experience this loss immediately.

In short, the resolution’s drawdown provisions risk creating new insecurities even as they aim to resolve old ones. Without a credible substitute for MONUSCO’s presence, civilians will pay the price. Policy-makers should therefore expect that “burden-sharing” with African forces or scaling up development efforts would have to accelerate dramatically to prevent a chaotic transition. The resolution itself calls for international support for peacebuilding programs (child protection, women’s initiatives, etc.), but these are easily overshadowed if guns and bullets fill the vacuum.

Conclusion: Security Architecture and Peacekeeping Limits

From an African security perspective, the December 2025 mandate underscores both the potential and the limits of international peacekeeping. On one hand, it formally acknowledges and incorporates African-led initiatives: the resolution aligns MONUSCO with AU and regional processes (the Luanda/Doha frameworks, EAC-SADC panels, etc.) and openly supports a Congolese exit strategy. This reflects an understanding that only African political leadership (with UN technical support) can realistically broker an enduring peace. On the other hand, the resolution also illustrates how over reliant the DRC and its partners have become on external forces – and how that reliance can become problematic. No matter how many countries contribute troops, peacekeeping alone cannot address structural governance failures. The real solution will lie in effective reforms: rebuilding state authority, ensuring justice, and reconciling diverse communities.

For peace operations experts, the new mandate is a case study in complexity. It reminds us that a Security Council resolution is only as strong as the situation on the ground and the political will behind it. Here, international fatigue, great-power politics, and Congolese demands for sovereignty all converge to weaken what the UN can do. It is a sober recognition that MONUSCO – one of the longest and costliest missions ever – cannot solve eastern Congo’s problems by itself. The structural risk factors identified above (governance deficits, armed group proliferation, regional rivalries) will not disappear with a page of Security Council text.

Ultimately, the December 2025 resolution leaves MONUSCO at a crossroads. It must now function more as a supporting actor to Congolese and African frameworks than as the main stabilizer. This may pave the way for more African ownership, which is long overdue, but it also risks abandoning civilians before truly effective local security has taken root. For policymakers, the message is clear: continued funding and political backing for CONGO’S institutions – not just military aid – are essential if peacekeepers leave. Any future international engagement should focus on capacity-building, conflict prevention, and addressing the governance gaps that give rise to violence. Otherwise, the legacy of the UN mission – like the many before it – may be that it merely contained a conflict without curing its deeper causes.

African Security Analysis (ASA), drawing on its deep contextual expertise and long-term field engagement in the Democratic Republic of Congo, offers a uniquely grounded lens to evaluate this mandate. ASA emphasizes that lasting stability will not emerge solely from troop deployments or technical benchmarks, but from addressing the structural fractures of governance, legitimacy, and regional trust. Through its embedded regional analysis approach, ASA highlights patterns of militia-state complicity, cross-border shadow diplomacy, and the erosion of citizen trust in public institutions—all often overlooked in high-level policy resolutions. ASA’s contribution lies in decoding the security–governance nexus from a distinctly African vantage point: tracking local power structures, civilian-military dynamics, and hybrid armed economies that shape conflict outcomes. As international stakeholders recalibrate their engagement, ASA urges a shift toward pragmatic, community-anchored strategies—beyond mandates and metrics—to rebuild state credibility, enforce accountability, and secure the DRC’s fragile peace architecture from within.