
John Rapley"BEFORE, WE feared our leaders," my friend declared, slapping the table, "but today they fear us." That was ten years ago in Abidjan, the capital of Cote d'Ivoire. Tuesday, when Cote d'Ivoire's military ruler, General Robert Guei, fled rioting mobs in a helicopter, I remembered my friend's words.
It was 1990. My friend had just returned from the launch of the country's first-ever opposition party, in what would become part of the democratising wave that swept over much of Africa that year. The changes soon took hold. When I returned to Abidjan in 1994, several opposition parties were operating and the press, previously controlled by the government, had tasted the fruits of a new freedom: dozens of new titles and radio stations existed.
At first, it was exhilarating. Cote d'Ivoire had spent the first thirty years of its independence under the tight rule of its founding father, Felix Houphouet-Boigny. Ivoiriens felt ambivalent about the "old man." He ran the country as if it were his family and he its patriarch. Stability and pragmatic policies brought a generation of prosperity. This, and the governing elite's strategy of cementing alliances through intermarriage and business cross-ownership, smoothed over latent ethnic tensions.
But there was little scope for ambitious young Ivoiriens to rise outside the ruling party, the Parti Democratique de la Cote d'Ivoire (PDCI), which kept a firm grip on power. Near the end of Houphouet-Boigny's life, a young generation of educated Ivoiriens grew restless, and an upsurge of democratic politics washed across the land.
When Houphouet-Boigny died, his chosen successor, Henri Konan Bedie, quickly moved into his mentor's shoes and consolidated the PDCI's hold on government. But things were changing. Depressed commodity prices and the rigours of structural adjustment had left the state with much less largesse than it had enjoyed during the days of the Ivoirien "miracle." A more inept leader than his teacher had been, Bedie was also unable to buy off opponents and satisfy ordinary citizens, and his government sank into excesses of corruption.
So when Mr. Konan Bedie was overthrown by General Guei in a coup last December, Ivoiriens felt divided. The involvement of the military in politics was a worrying development in a country which took pride in its professional officer corps. Indeed, many officers opposed General Guei's adventurism. But Gen. Guei declared that his only interest was to stamp out corruption and restore normality to Ivoirien politics, so his move was soon applauded.
However, whether Gen. Guei had hidden his true intentions, or simply changed them after he tasted power, things soon took a turn for the worse. First, he broke his promise not to run in this week's presidential election. He then bullied the court into invalidating the candidacies of most of the opposition, including that of its strongest leader, former prime minister Alassane Dramane Ouattara.
Most opposition parties thus decided to boycott Sunday's election. It appears most Ivoiriens heeded their call. Yet even Mr. Guei's farce of a poll proved insufficient to keep him in office. When it grew apparent that long-time opposition politician Laurent Gbagbo -- the only credible candidate allowed to challenge Mr. Guei -- was well ahead in the polls, Mr. Guei summarily cancelled the election and said he was the victor. In response, Mr. Gbagbo declared himself president. He then called on his supporters to take to the streets and do to Mr. Guei what Serbians had recently done to Slobodan Milosevic.
The protests appear to have worked, largely because the security forces were so divided over whether or not to stand by Mr. Guei. Their reluctance to come to his assistance, not to mention the refusal of the French government which maintains an all-important paratroop base in the country no doubt led Mr. Guei to fear for his future.
It will be too much to hope that his dramatic overthrow will restore normality to Cote d'Ivoire, though. With the opposition having boycotted the election, Mr. Gbagbo has no real mandate. And if new elections are held, the risks of a descent into ethnic conflict, given the deteriorating economic situation, look real.
Never in Cote d'Ivoire, I used to say, sure that the country's stability and prosperity had taken hold in a way they never had in neighbouring countries. Things look so different ten years on.
John Rapley is a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Government, UWI, Mona.