GAMBIA-L Archives

The Gambia and Related Issues Mailing List

GAMBIA-L@LISTSERV.ICORS.ORG

Options: Use Forum View

Use Monospaced Font
Show Text Part by Default
Show All Mail Headers

Message: [<< First] [< Prev] [Next >] [Last >>]
Topic: [<< First] [< Prev] [Next >] [Last >>]
Author: [<< First] [< Prev] [Next >] [Last >>]

Print Reply
Subject:
From:
Jabou Joh <[log in to unmask]>
Reply To:
The Gambia and related-issues mailing list <[log in to unmask]>
Date:
Mon, 10 Jan 2000 19:43:05 EST
Content-Type:
text/plain
Parts/Attachments:
text/plain (304 lines)
<< WIRE:01/07/2000 16:21:00 ET
 Ivory Coast Post-Coup Jitters Ease

 ABIDJAN (Reuters) - Shops and businesses in Abidjan returned to normal
 operations on Friday easing fears of army discontent which had raised fresh
 tension two weeks after a military coup in Ivory Coast.
 "There is no problem today. All the shops in our area are open," said a
Lebanese
 shopkeeper in the Plateau business district of the commercial capital.
 Many shops in Plateau closed hurriedly on Thursday afternoon after reports of
 shooting and troop movements swept the port city of three million people.
 Tension was fuelled by rumors suggesting that army lower ranks, who staged a
pay
 mutiny that paved the way for the Christmas Eve coup against President Henri
 Konan Bedie, were unhappy with the government named by military junta leader
 General Robert Guei on Wednesday.
 Guei faced more blistering attacks on Friday from Socialist leader Laurent
 Gbagbo who alleges the coup was sponsored by a rival opposition leader.
 The former ruling party, the PDCI-RDA, said the new government was not as
 broad-based as Guei had indicated it would be, and backed calls for
democratic
 elections in June.
 REASSURANCE OVER DEBT REPAYMENT
 Government officials also sought to reassure foreign creditors worried by
Guei's
 statement earlier this week that the junta had suspended repayments on Ivory
 Coast's foreign debt.
 A senior finance ministry official said the country was not refusing to pay
its
 external debts, even though one payment owed to France was missed.
 "There is no refusal to pay," the official, who declined to be named, told
 Reuters.
 The official said one payment due to be paid to French aid agency Agence
 Francaise de Developpement (AFD) in November had been missed, initially with
the
 agreement of the authorities in Paris.
 "We asked, with the agreement of our partners in France, who accepted, to
push
 it back to the end of the year," the official said.
 The AFD said on Thursday that all new funding for Ivory Coast was on hold
after
 Guei's debt comments, and also because of the failure to make a repayment.
 NEW GOVT FACES OPPOSITION
 Jean Konan Banny, head of the PDCI's crisis committee, told a news conference
 the new government was not truly representative, despite Guei's insistence
that
 all political parties had been invited to participate.
 "The government does not reflect this wish for objectivity," Banny said. The
 PDCI did not present a list of candidates as Guei had requested, and says
that
 it is not officially represented in the government, although Agriculture
 Minister Luc Koffi is a PDCI member.
 Banny noted calls from the Economic Community of West African States for
 elections in June, adding: "We at the PDCI are not opposed to such a
schedule."
 The daily Notre Voie, a mouthpiece of the Gbagbo's Ivorian Popular Front
(FPI),
 stepped up its attacks on Guei's junta, accusing two linchpin generals of
being
 surrogates of former Prime Minister Alassane Outtara, Gbagbo's potential
rival
 when presidential elections are held.
 "Their mentor, for whom they are working, is called Alassane Dramane
Ouattara,"
 Notre Voie columnist Franck Dally wrote on Friday.
 The pro-Ouattara daily Le Patriote riposted with attacks on Gbagbo, accusing
him
 of having forged an accord with Bedie's discredited government.


 January 7, 2000
 Ivoirian's Birthplace Recalls Its Brief, Shining Moment as a Would-Be Capital

 By NORIMITSU ONISHI

 DAOUKRO, Ivory Coast, Jan. 4 -- In midswing, the construction hammers have
 fallen silent in this small town surrounded by the West African forest.
 The luminous Moroccan tiles have been set against the new mosque's walls, but
 concrete blocks bar the entrance to the unfinished staircase up the minaret.
 Across town, an inch of stagnant water sits at the bottom of the fountain in
the
 shiny new multimillion-dollar conference hall, the residue of workers'
testing
 the new plumbing.
 Will jets of water ever spurt joyfully from this fountain to splash against
the
 green marble imported from Italy? Will the muezzin ever ascend the minaret to
 rouse the faithful to prayer?
 Those are the questions being asked these days in Daoukro, hometown of Henri
 Konan B?di?, recently ousted president of Ivory Coast, now in exile in Paris.
 Military coup leaders took power two weeks ago, in the country's first
violent
 change of government since it won independence from France in 1960. They have
 accused Mr. B?di? of plundering the nation's wealth. The coup gained
widespread
 support across the country, with the notable exception of Daoukro, its big
 loser.
 Since becoming president in 1993, Mr. B?di?, like his predecessor, F?lix
 Houphou?t-Boigny, had indulged in the longtime African tradition of spending
 lavish amounts of public money on his hometown. Despite its remoteness and
 population of only 14,000, Daoukro suddenly found itself with the best roads
in
 the country and hugely expensive public works projects like a new hotel and a
 nightclub. Most of it remains a work in progress that, given the Christmas
Eve
 coup, may no longer progress.
 Ivoirians grumbled about Mr. Houphou?t-Boigny's excesses. But he was an
autocrat
 with no political opposition. Above all, he was tolerated because he managed
to
 turn Ivory Coast into the world's leading cocoa producer, the region's most
 stable country and French-speaking Africa's richest. He opened borders to
poor
 immigrants from neighboring countries and deftly used ethnic politics to
create
 harmony among the country's 60 ethnic groups.
 By contrast, Mr. B?di? proved a clumsy politician who presided over an
 increasingly corrupt government. He manipulated the 1995 elections, changing
the
 laws to exclude his main rival, Alassane D. Ouattara, a prime minister under
Mr.
 Houphou?t-Boigny and until last year a deputy managing director at the
 International Monetary Fund.
 Most significantly, in the last year his party embarked on the xenophobic
 pursuit of so-called ivoirit?, drawing distinctions between who was a pure
 Ivoirian and who was not. Clearly, Mr. B?di?'s own ethnic group, the Baoul?
--
 Mr. Houphou?t-Boigny was also a Baoul? -- were to be considered real
Ivoirians,
 in contrast to the Muslim northerners who make up Mr. Ouattara's base.
 The xenophobic policies, coupled with the country's economic decline,
worsened
 ethnic tensions.
 That was one of the reasons cited by the new military ruler, Gen. Robert
Gue?, a
 member of the Yacouba minority from the southwest, for staging the coup that
 made Daoukro a town of long faces.
 "You see those trucks there?" asked the assistant manager of a Shell gas
station
 in the town center, pointing at two flatbeds parked across the street.
"They've
 been idle there since the coup. They used to carry sand and gravel for all
the
 construction. If they stay parked, that means no business for us."
 People have stopped coming here to pay homage to Mr. B?di?'s family. At Le
 Z?nith restaurant, as at others, business is slack.
 "Now the people who come don't even tip," said a waitress who gave her name
only
 as Monique, making a face. "Nothing's working now. If nothing works here,
we'll
 have to go somewhere else. Everything worked before."
 After Mr. B?di? became the country's second president since independence, and
 workers began breaking ground on several projects, the locals saw Daoukro
grow
 into a town with few rural rivals. Some had even dared to dream that Daoukro
 would become another Yamoussoukro, a town of 15,000 that, as the birthplace
of
 Mr. Houphou?t-Boigny, was turned into the country's capital.
 "That was my wish," said Zacharia Sankara, 21, somewhat wistfully, as he
peered
 through the wrought-iron gates surrounding the unfinished mosque that Mr.
B?di?,
 a Christian, had offered as a gift to Mr. Sankara and his fellow Muslims.
"But
 now it's not even sure that all the projects here will be finished. I am even
 asking myself whether this mosque will be finished -- or will it stay like
 this?"
 Yamoussoukro, a capital yet in the making, perhaps already in the unmaking,
 stands about 90 miles west of here. Mr. Houphou?t-Boigny was a couple of
decades
 into his presidency when he chose to elevate his hometown at the expense of
 Abidjan, which is by far the country's largest city and considered the most
 modern in West Africa.
 By 1983, the equivalent of moving Washington to Hope, Ark., had been done.
And
 eventually what had been forest, cocoa and coconut plantations had a six-lane
 boulevard, luxury hotels, and a presidential palace surrounded by artificial
 lagoons alive with crocodiles.
 Most impressive, though, was the Roman Catholic basilica that Mr.
 Houphou?t-Boigny had built, at an estimated cost of more than $300 million.
The
 Notre Dame de la Paix basilica became the world's largest church -- even
bigger
 than St. Peter's in Rome -- with handblown French stained glass in 4,000
 different tints and tons of marble shipped from Italy to cover a 7.4-acre
 esplanade. The basilica's 7,000 seats each have individual air-conditioning
 ducts.
 But a decade after Pope John Paul II reluctantly sanctified the structure,
 cracks have appeared in the marble esplanade, and trees and shrubbery are
 growing unchecked. Only a couple of hundred faithful regularly attend Sunday
 Mass, and even on the major Christian holidays the basilica is only half
full.
 (Christmas Mass was canceled last month because of the coup.)
 Yamoussoukro has generally been declining since Mr. Houphou?t-Boigny's death
in
 1993. Embassies never moved there from Abidjan; neither did the government's
own
 ministries. The luxury hotels and wide boulevards grew emptier still as
 political pilgrims dropped Yamoussoukro in favor of Mr. B?di?'s hometown.
 Where they will go next is anyone's guess. General Gue?, the coup leader, has
 promised elections but given no date yet. A transitional government has been
 named, comprising mostly military officials, technocrats and members of Mr.
 Ouattara's party, the Rally of Republicans. Laurent Gbagbo, leader of another
 opposition party, pulled out of the transitional government at the last
minute,
 describing it as heavily tilted toward Mr. Ouattara's party and strongly
 suggesting what many Ivoirians suspect -- that Mr. Ouattara's party knew of
the
 coup beforehand.
 "We realize that this is a coup d'?tat by the R.D.R," Mr. Gbagbo said, using
the
 Ouattara party's initials. "It is a government by the R.D.R."
 Mr. Ouattara, acutely aware as a former monetary fund official that being
 associated with a coup would create problems with international lenders, has
 denied any prior knowledge. Upon returning to Ivory Coast from a three-month
 exile in France, he immediately began describing the overthrow as a
"revolution"
 of the Ivoirian people.
 Whatever it was, Mr. B?di? will probably not return here despite having
declared
 that he will be his party's next presidential candidate. Authorities in his
 party said in a statement that they no longer recognized him as their leader.
 Mr. B?di? is "on leave," the statement read, with the usual French politesse.
 Even here in Daoukro, people seem resigned to the fact that its native son is
 history. During the coup they feared reprisals, and elderly women and
children
 fled into the forest. Most have now returned, though soldiers and police
 officials still restrict entry into town. The authorities let a reporter in
but
 forbade taking photographs of the mosque and the new H?tel de la Paix, with
the
 three separate bungalows for private presidential meetings that will never
take
 place.
 People milling around the mosque were philosophical.
 "In life, one man can't be in power forever," said Asate Konate, a woman in
her
 60's. "Maybe the new government will take pity on us and finish the mosque."
 Unlike others, Mamadou Sylla, a man in his 20's, said he had never dreamed
the
 Yamoussoukro dream.
 "The times had changed," Mr. Sylla said. "There was multi partyism. B?di?
would
 never have been able to push through the big projects that Houphou?t
created."
 "It was fair play," he said of Daoukro's status as the country's big loser.
"It
 was fair play."
 It took an outsider, a police official assigned to Daoukro, to find the
 positive.
 "Little by little the country will be developed," the official said, adding
that
 the next president would do the same thing in his home region. "Eventually,"
he
 predicted, "each region in the country will have its own H?tel de la Paix."
 The worry, the police official conceded, is whether the development can be
 maintained, or whether it will start slowly deteriorating as it has in
 Yamoussoukro.
 A new road leads east out of Daoukro, its dividing lines painted fresh, its
 shoulders meticulously marked off. Alongside are signs warning of
schoolchildren
 crossing, setting speed limits, naming each little village at least three
times
 -- extra touches unseen elsewhere in the country and certainly not in the
 potholed north. The road goes up and down lush reddish hills, cutting a swath
 through the region's verdant forest. It is a thoroughfare worthy of an
American
 suburb, a drive pleasant enough to use in a Mercedes or Lexus commercial.
 About 25 miles east, the road comes to a year-old bridge over the Como?
River.
 The asphalt abruptly ends on the other side. Under the bridge, the engineers'
 chalk notes are still visible against the walls, near graffiti someone has
 scrawled: "Forgive us our sins."
 Koffi Kouakou, a cheerful 30-year-old farmer, crossed the bridge on his
bicycle,
 drawn by the sight of a stranger standing with a notepad.
 "Oh, we loved him so much!" Mr. Kouakou exclaimed about Mr. B?di?. "Because
he
 was a son of Daoukro, he took care of us. We now have the H?tel de la Paix.
We
 could have never imagined that before. It used to take us three hours to get
 from the center of town to this bridge before the road was paved, and we had
to
 cross on a ferry."
 "Look at this bridge," he added, knitting his eyebrows and pointing to some
 cracks that had already appeared. "They said they would fix this. But will
they
 now? And will the road be completed?"
 Mr. Kouakou pedaled away, returning in the direction he had come from, toward
 the asphalt.
 The other way, for about 30 miles, the road runs past gutters that have
already
 been dug in villages, past big red X's on houses condemned to accommodate the
 future asphalt. It is a dusty road of dirt and decay and pebbles, paved only
in
 the imagination of a deposed president and the people of Daoukro.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L
Web interface at: http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/gambia-l.html

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

ATOM RSS1 RSS2