President Thabo Mbeki will hit the ground in Côte d’Ivoire next week with the deadlock hardening between the government and the rebels, and President Laurent Gbagbo’s relationship with France steadily unravelling.
Minister of Defence Mosiuoa Lekota is in Abidjan to clear the ground as best he can for Mbeki to continue negotiating a path through the military and political minefield handed to him by the African Union.
Mbeki has already said he will visit both the government-controlled southern economic capital of Abidjan and the rebel-held northern town of Bouake during his three-day trip.
Thus far he has listened to presentations by Gbagbo and New Forces rebel leader Guillaume Soro, who both insist that the others’ departure is prerequisite for a return to negotiations.
Mbeki has avoided comment on either of the extremes, as he has on the more moderate views presented by Prime Minister Seydou Diarra and unarmed political leaders Allasane Ouattara and Alphone Djedje Mady.
In this era of brokering difficult peace deals in Africa, this is pretty standard stuff for South Africa.
It approaches hardliners rather like a stubborn carpenter driving a nail through a plank. If it strikes a knot and bends, simply tap it straight again and keep on hammering. This manner has worked in the Democratic Republic of Congo and in Burundi. There is every reason to try it in Côte d’Ivoire.
Except that the world’s former cocoa capital is currently in the throes of a violent domestic row, the likes of which has not been seen in post-colonial Africa. Stepping in between Gbagbo and France is like trying to separate a husband and wife reduced to violence: he risks having them both turn on him.
A small but colourful group of Gbagbo’s supporters were dancing outside France’s spanking new embassy in Pretoria this week, denouncing French imperialism.
But this ‘imperialism†was enthusiastically embraced by the post-colonial government that happily accommodated the 1 000 French troops that stayed behind in terms of an agreement after the tricolour was replaced with Côte d’Ivoire’s orange, white and green. Ivoireans rather tweely saw themselves as little brothers of France and prospered in that role.
Gbagbo himself accepted French protection against the rebels, even when this required muscling-up its military presence in his country to nearly 5 000 troops.
He only turned on Paris when President Jacques Chirac started pressing him to implement the January 2003 peace agreement signed at Linas Marcoussis. In simple terms, this would require Gbagbo to bring rebel and opposition players into a transitional government.
What is more complicated is the requirement to drop the xenophobic ‘Ivoirite†elements of the Constitution that lock out more than a quarter of the 15-million population. These four million excluded people are mostly located in the rebellious north.
France has said little since wiping out the Ivoirean air force in retaliation against the killing of nine of its peacekeepers in an air raid earlier this month. Chirac has branded Gbagbo’s administration a ‘questionable regime†— about as nasty a term as diplomacy allows.
In the past week French troops have been pulled back from positions in Abidjan. From next week Air France flights will return to the airport there.
Into this tense atmosphere goes Mbeki. He has carefully avoided mentioning France — this is after all an African matter. Last week Minister of Foreign Affairs Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma said that more West African troops might be needed in Côte d’Ivoire to dilute the French presence.
Mbeki’s first priority is getting peace in Côte d’Ivoire. If he can achieve this without stepping on any Gallic toes, so much the better.