The Silent Tragedy: How the Genocide in Congo Funds Western Economies

The bloody supply chain?

When you pick up a smartphone, glance at a gold necklace, or marvel at the magnificent power of an electric car, do you ever stop to wonder about the lives behind these conveniences? And if I were to tell you that it took the lives of millions of unknown men, women, and children to bring this to your table at an accessible price, how would you react?

Whether you are aware of it or not, Congo is bleeding, and there is a likely chance that the iPhone you are using to read this right now is part of the cause. What many of us fail to acknowledge is that, to get these devices on our tables, major corporations rely on a long and bloody supply chain. The journey begins in the mineral-rich soils of the Democratic Republic of Congo, a populous nation in the heart of Africa. Covering approximately 2.34 million square kilometers, this culturally rich region is believed to hold over $24 trillion in natural resources alone—the most notable of which are cobalt, tantalum, and gold.

However, despite this resource wealth, Congo remains one of the poorest countries in the world, with a GDP per capita of $557. Why is this? Many would argue that it stems from poor governance and the 30-year-long conflicts in the region, but to fully understand the suffering of this country, we must delve into the historical context behind its current economy.

Colonialism and exploitation

Congo is no stranger to oppression. From the colonial era, when King Leopold II of Belgium claimed Congo as his personal colony in 1885, its long legacy of exploitation began. The extraction and trade of rubber and ivory led to the deaths of millions through forced labour
and violence. Post-colonialism, after Congo became a democracy in 1960, the country struggled to achieve stability due to rising ethnic tensions. This worsened with the assassination of their first prime minister, Patrice Lumumba, allegedly with Western involvement. This paved the way for General Mobutu Sese Seko to seize power in a coup and rule as a dictator for the next 30 years. The spiral of corruption and economic decline that followed his death became ingrained in Congo’s politics.

Since 2003, the Democratic Republic of Congo has faced ongoing conflict driven by armed groups like M23, the Allied Democratic Forces (ADF), and various local militias fighting for control of resource-rich regions. Neighboring countries, particularly Rwanda and Uganda, have been accused of supporting these groups. Weak governance, coupled with international demand for minerals like cobalt and gold, perpetuates violence and exploitation. Even if this conflict were to stop, another would arise—and another after that.
Such is the fate of Congo, trapped in a vicious resource curse.

Cobalt, tantalum, and gold, often called blood minerals, are the foundation upon which much of the technological industry is built. Cobalt is essential for producing lithium-ion batteries—another mineral Congo is rich in—which power smartphones, laptops, and electric vehicles. Tantalum is used in capacitors that ensure the functionality of electronic circuits, while gold is vital for conductivity in circuit boards.

Western companies, including British firms, are not just bystanders in this crisis—they’re profiting from it. Take Glencore, for example, a mining giant linked to UK markets. It extracts cobalt from Congo’s mines, where workers endure horrific conditions. British telecom companies like Vodafone and BT Group rely on tantalum and cobalt to keep their devices running, yet they rarely ask hard questions about where these materials come from. Luxury car brands like Jaguar Land Rover aren’t exempt either; the batteries in their electric vehicles are powered by the same minerals that cost Congolese people their lives.

Across the Atlantic, companies like Apple and Tesla also depend on these blood minerals. Apple, in fact, is facing a lawsuit alleging that its supply chains profit from child labor in the Congolese cobalt mines. The lawsuit, filed on behalf of families whose children have died or been injured in mining accidents, accuses Apple and other tech giants of knowingly benefitting from forced labour in brutal conditions. While Apple claims to have ethical supply chain policies, the reality on the ground tells a different story—one of exploitation and unimaginable suffering.

Globally, the tech industry is worth over $5 trillion. In the UK alone, it contributes 7.2% of GDP, with goods like phones, laptops, and mobile broadband being manufactured and sold in massive quantities. To make these goods more accessible and keep profit margins high, corporations figure out ways to cut costs somewhere. If exacerbating a conflict in an unfamiliar region of Africa allows them to acquire raw materials at dirt-cheap prices, they’ll displace millions and force children under ten to work in mines—all to ensure competitive prices and the illusion of “affordable luxury.”

Every iPhone in your hand, every Tesla on the road, carries with it the unseen suffering of miners, some as young as six years old. These companies make billions, but the people who make their success possible are left with nothing but scars, poverty, and grief. When did it become acceptable to build convenience and luxury on the backs of the most vulnerable? How long will we turn a blind eye while corporations—British and global—profit from the pain of others?

Taking action?

Now, I’m not asking you to toss your iPhone out the window or return your Tesla back to the dealer. Ultimately, we depend heavily on these everyday conveniences. Even now, the laptop I’m using to write this article and the phone I’ll use to upload it are part of this bloody cycle. What is the average British consumer to do in a situation like this? Alternatives, like Samsung, likely use the same materials, as Congo supplies 70% of the world’s naturally mined cobalt. This means there’s a 70% chance that we all use devices made from these blood minerals.

What I ask for is more awareness from the public. We should open our eyes and hold governments and businesses accountable. Instead of sitting by passively, allowing corporations and governments to pull the wool over our eyes with claims of “ethical sourcing” and “sustainable supply chains,” we must demand transparency and action.

Ultimately, this cycle will never stop until we wake up and realize its root cause. At the moment, there’s little any of us can do to stop the exploitation of individuals thousands of miles away from us, nor will it be easy to do in the near future. However, I implore you to try. After all, it was the actions of the collective that began this exploitation; it is our continued ignorance that perpetuates this cycle. It will take our collective resistance and a call for action to finally liberate these people.

Congo is bleeding, and its wounds will never begin to heal unless we open our eyes.