From his forest lair, rebel leader vows to continue Congo's fight

The Congolese rebels stop at an internet café in town to check their website and print the latest press clippings before passing the last of the hungry-looking government soldiers who are asking for cigarettes and money.

Particularly happy about one story - which likens their renegade general, Laurent Nkunda, to Robin Hood - they drive up into the hills of Masisi, passing herds of cows and Indian UN peacekeepers on the narrow paths.

To some, Laurent Nkunda and his men, armed with their AK-47s and rocket-propelled grenades, are war criminals who know nothing but life by the gun and represent everything still wrong about the Democratic Republic of Congo, which was the site of Africa's "first world war" from 1998-2002.

To others, they are just a media-savvy band of men intent on protecting people who have been targeted because of their ethnicity. There is little ground in between.

Eucalyptus trees line the rutted roads that wind their way through the steep green hills towards Mr Nkunda's base. Gunmen mingle with the local cow farmers who have produced the best milk and cheese in Congo's east for generations. Mr Nkunda is to be found in an abandoned farmhouse high in the hills of Masisi. The tall and lanky dissident general fits every stereotype about the Tutsis of Africa's Great Lakes region. With glasses perched on the end of his nose, he wanders around his heavily guarded headquarters swinging a cane and fielding calls on various phones.

Despite numerous accusations of human rights violations, he has a blind sense of belief that what he is doing is right. "They die in their thousands and no one says anything," says Mr Nkunda, launching into an explanation of the suffering of his fellow Tutsis in eastern Congo. "But I have protected them and I will, until my death," he vows.

The rebels woo visitors with pints of fresh milk and, if you ask nicely, will put on a war dance. The general also explains that he is not against joining the government forces but he says the conditions are not quite right. Tens of thousands of refugees must be allowed to return from Rwanda and security must be improved in the east, he says.

Congo's east has always been complicated. Insecurity is rife and analysts say Tutsis are sometimes targeted but not on the scale Mr Nkunda suggests. But these are problems that have developed over the course of years and they will take many more to resolve.

It was here the war which brought the 1997 downfall of Mobutu Sese Seko began. Tutsi-dominated rebels backed by the Rwandan army marched to Kinshasa, the capital, ousting the dictator. It was also where most of the last war, between foreign-backed rebels and Laurent Kabila, Mr Mobutu's successor, took place. And, less than a year after historic post-war elections, there are fears it will be where the next one erupts, undermining years of effort and billions spent on peacemaking to end the world's most lethal conflict since the Second World War.

The main rebel leaders who had carved up the country between 1998 and 2003 were coerced into taking part in a transitional government, which ran the country as it wobbled to the 2006 elections. But other rebels, including Mr Nkunda did not and, in order for elections to take place, compromises were made.

The government issued an arrest warrant after he seized a town in eastern Congo in 2004 and his men were accused of war crimes. But, still trying to turn tens of thousands of men from rag-tag rebel, militia and army units into a cohesive national army, the government has not been able to execute it.

Therefore, shortly after he was elected, President Joseph Kabila struck a secret deal with Mr Nkunda. Their forces were meant to stop fighting each other, create temporary units and, instead, attack the thousands of Rwandan Hutu rebels still in Congo.

The rebels came to Congo when they were routed after the 1994 genocide and were at the centre of the two subsequent wars that left an estimated 3.5 million dead. Instead of resolving any of the problems, it created many more. Countless civilians were killed in the fighting and tens of thousands fled their homes as hungry and ill-disciplined soldiers went on the move, some committing massacres. Unicaf says it has helped about 250,000 displaced people since the elections last year.

Anneke Van Woudenburg, Congo analyst at Human Rights Watch, warns that Mr Kabila's botched attempt to deal with the rebels has "instead strengthened the hand of the warlord". Hundreds have been recruited from Rwanda, some forcibly, others more willingly. Mr Kabila has since pulled out of the deal. But, thought to be on his knees at the end of last year, when hundreds of his men were killed in fighting with the UN, the general has spread his sphere of influence and is setting up a parallel administration in areas his men control.

"Everything here is controlled by him," explains Dominic Bofondo, the administrator of Rutshuru, pointing on a map to the western half the territory he is meant to govern. "He has all his own tax collectors out there. We tried to send ours there but they were beaten and they fled. For the past four months, we have not been receiving any reports from our people."

Villages where politicians campaigned for votes this time last year have since been emptied across parts of North Kivu. Houses lie empty and doors kicked in as civilians fled. "Yes, we had elections. But we never suffered like this in previous wars," says Crispin Bahati, a resident of Kisharu village in Rutshuru.

"This week they pillaged four times. These men in uniforms, they just attack the population. Four times the foreigners have come saying they will help but nothing has changed. We just tighten our belts and eat every other day," he adds.

The men in uniform are a range of government soldiers, Mr Nkunda's men and Rwandan Hutu rebels. The foreigners are the UN peacekeepers, which number over 17,000, making it the largest UN mission but tiny for a country of its size.

The UN was kept in the dark over the secretive deal and peacekeepers will now have to decide what to do should fighting break out again. "It's not fair to ask us to clear up the mess if there is one," says Brigadier-General Pramod Behl, commander of the Indian peacekeepers in North Kivu province.

General Behl's men are in a difficult position because Mr Nkunda and some of his men are, simultaneously, wanted for war crimes but officially part of the national army. Their men sometimes carry out joint patrols.

General Behl is concerned peacekeepers will be pushed into a corner. They have a mandate to protect civilians but also support the Congolese government. When it comes to Congo's army, the two do not always go together.

Diplomats from countries which stumped up hundred of millions of dollars for last year's elections and continue to pay a £500m peacekeeping bill every year are trying to encourage a diplomatic solution. But the men, tanks and helicopter gunships the president is sending east give a different message. As do Congolese officials, who issue threats about Mr Nkunda while at garden parties in the capital.

Ms Van Woudenburg of HRW fears the worst. "Instead of diplomacy they are resorting to past behaviour of military force as the solution to the problem; one that is unlikely to succeed and will only result in further suffering for the people and more chaos."

Kabila's legacy of conflict

War came to eastern Zaire in 1997 when Laurent Kabila's Tutsi-led rebels crossed the country to topple veteran leader Mobutu Sese Seko. But his former supporters then turned on him and rebels backed by Rwanda and Uganda advanced on the capital of the now renamed Democratic Republic of Congo.

Laurent Nkunda's Rwandan-backed RDC rebels seized much of eastern DRC. As the war spread, President Kabila enlisted the help of Zimbabwe, Namibia and Angola. Peace accords failed to stop the bloodletting.

In 2001, he was assassinated and his son Joseph took power. Despite peace deals that led to the withdrawal of foreign forces, Mr Nkunda's rebels rejected the agreements, including a 2002 pact which gave rebels and opposition members posts in an interim government.

After the signing of a transitional constitution in 2003, Mr Nkunda took up arms again. But after landmark elections in 2006, the conflict kept bubbling in eastern Congo, despite UN peacekeepers. Mr Nkunda's forces have been accused of war crimes for over-running Bukavu in 2004. And last month, the head of UN peacekeeping, Jean-Marie JGuéhenno, described Mr Nkunda as "the most serious threat to stability".