/ 13 November 2002

Eat your hat, George W Bush

The French have always run their colonies with so much more panache than the bumbling British. So while the Brits continue to make a show of post-colonial regret (much of which is dedicated to the proposition that “we should have never abandoned our woggies to their fate, they just weren’t ready”) the French sail on upon their imperial mission unaffected by guilt, remorse or self-doubt.

And of course the Franco-Africans (or their leaders, at least) play along beautifully. There was, for example, that unforgettable moment when Emperor Jean

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Bedel Bokassa of the short-lived Central African Empire arrived in Paris to attend the funeral of the late General Charles de Gaulle. As the emperor descended from his plane, he burst into tears and threw himself into the arms of French president Valery Giscard d’Estaing, wailing, “Papa est mort! Papa est mort! [Daddy is dead! Daddy is dead!]”

You couldn’t imagine Jomo Kenyatta putting on the same kind of display in the arms of Queen Elizabeth at the funeral of Winston Churchill, could you? Us Commonwealth darkies just don’t behave like that. It isn’t cricket. And besides, Her Majesty would have been seriously unamused.

The France-Africa summit in the Cameroonian capital of Yaounde two weeks ago was yet another display of the firm grip the French have on their erstwhile colonies. While the Cameroonian head of state Paul Biya was allowed to play the role of host, the agenda was clearly set by the chief among his guests: French President Jacques Chirac.

This 21st summit between French and African heads of state was billed as a celebration of “the eternal friendship” that was said to exist between the peoples of France and the Dark Continent. The bloodshed and brutality of the years of slavery and colonisation that had led to this somewhat one-sided bond of friendship were quietly kept off the agenda.

High up on the official agenda was the issue of globalisation, and what Africans were going to do about it. And it wasn’t as if the Africans were being given much of a say in the matter, either.

True, one African leader after another stepped up to the podium to throw in their small objections to the effect that globalisation was having on their already beleaguered economies.

But the bottom line was that globalisation was a reality, introduced from far away, like all the other realities that Africa has had to adjust to over the years, and there wasn’t much the gathered heads of crumbling states could do about it – except maybe buy more Coca-Cola to help ease the pain.

Cameroon, the host for this expensive and seemingly futile exercise in summit politicking, had already had to suffer the bitter pill of structural adjustment. The French president’s opening eulogy to the country, paying homage to its culture, its noble history (Cameroon is one of the few African countries to have waged an armed struggle against its French colonisers) and its present “economic vitality”, was evidence that Cameroon was seen to be playing the game.

And yet, in spite of some frantic efforts at a late stage to clean up the rotting streets of Yaounde and the commercial capital of Douala, the country’s infrastructure shows few signs of vitality, or even direction. What economic vitality there might be is evidenced only in the bustling export of rich raw materials, and the crippling cost of having to import almost everything else.

Health, education and other social programmes have been cut back so that the country can start to pay off its external debts. And naturally, the emotive issue of debt repayment to the West was another of those troublesome matters that was studiously kept off the official agenda.

The real coup pulled off by France was to have expanded its roster of “eternal African friends” beyond its former colonies. The Anglophones (including South Africa, Namibia and Zimbabwe) were also there this time, straining to decipher what crumbs the complex circumlocutions hidden in the formalities of the French language might hold in store for them.

But then came the announcement, almost before the real business of the summit had begun, of the probable assassination of Laurent Kabila, who had been due to show up at the summit on the second day. It was a moment that could almost have been stage-managed for effect.

Robert Mugabe immediately abandoned the conference to return to Harare, to be at the bedside of the ailing Congolese leader, who had supposedly been flown to the Zimbabwean capital for emergency treatment, but who was in fact already lying dead in Kinshasa.

The other African delegates milled around in confusion, striving to comprehend what meaning this act of violence in the violent Congolese capital might have in the insignificant play of African politics.

Only Chirac remained calm, delivering, according to a commentator in the journal Jeune Afrique, a statement in which he joined in the fears of many of his brother presidents gathered at Yaounde, that certain unnamed African nations (not present at the summit) might have been behind this dastardly deed, hoping to destroy the integrity of that indecipherable entity called the Congo.

And then, accompanied by a rousing farewell of truly folkloric Cameroonian drumming and dancing, the French leader boarded his plane and flew back to the real world, to get on with the business of dealing with more serious aspects of globalisation.

For sheer post-imperial aplomb, it was a performance that would have made George W Bush eat his sombrero, and Tony Blair barf into his bowler hat.

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