Endgame in Cte d'Ivoire

Abidjan, the commercial capital of Cte d'Ivoire, used to be known as Little Paris. But then, they used to say that of Beirut, and it too got devastated in a war.

Then, Abidjan was a vibrant and prosperous city, filled with immigrants from all over the region, and business people from all over the world. You could start your day by a roadside café, and finish it in an Italian or Moroccan restaurant, before taking in some of the best nightlife in West Africa. So ostentatious was the city's wealth that if you were suddenly taken by an urge to go skating, you could go to the indoor rink at the Hotel Ivoire.

There's little left of that Abidjan today. Today, many of the foreigners - from European executives to poor Burkinabé gardeners - have left, chased out by the marauding bands of loyalists to the embattled regime of Laurent Gbagbo. Cte d'Ivoire's post-colonial founder, Felix Houphouet-Boigny, built his nation atop pragmatism. When Ghana's Nkrumah said freedom in poverty was better than getting rich at all cost, Houphouet bet Nkrumah he could make his people richer in 10 years. He won the bet.

Houphouet built the economy in no small measure by inviting in foreigners: Europeans to help run the businesses, and poor migrants from neighbouring African countries to take the jobs Ivorians didn't want. As a result, the state he built was highly personalised. It worked when he was around. But after he died in 1994, the system's stability faltered badly. By 1999, it had deteriorated into a military dictatorship.

the great irony

Laurent Gbagbo spent his life opposing Houphouet. An academic by training, Gbagbo has the uncompromising purity of one who seeks a better world. And for him, the world that Houphouet had created in Cte d'Ivoire was one that was not built for poor Ivorians. In 2000, when the country's military leader tried to steal an election that would cement his rule, Mr Gbagbo led thousands of Abidjan's citizens into the streets to overthrow him.

How galling it must be, then, that for someone who became president after a popular revolt, Mr Gbagbo's now finds that his tactics have been turned against him. When Cte d'Ivoire held a presidential election last November, virtually all international observers agreed that the opposition candidate, Alassane Ouattara, had won. Mr Gbagbo then declared himself the winner, and seized control. The next thing he knew, the country split, and protesters took to the streets.

Very quickly, Mr Gbagbo found himself isolated. Most countries, including most African states, recognised Mr Ouattara - now holed up in an old luxury hotel outside Abidjan - as the new president. Abidjan's accounts at the central bank of West Africa were frozen. Cash soon ran out. Mr Gbagbo tried improvising his way through, for example, pressing cocoa exporters to make advance payments on their taxes. Nonetheless, it was recently reported that only half of civil-service salaries had been paid.

defections

Not surprisingly, therefore, a military that is more professional than ideological lost its will to fight. In large numbers, soldiers began defecting or laying down arms, climaxing last week when the army chief of staff and his family took refuge at the residence of the South African ambassador. Like a house of cards, the string of southern towns controlled by Mr Gbagbo tumbled into the hands of rebels loyal to Mr Ouattara.

To Laurent Gbagbo, Mr Ouattara represents everything that was wrong about the old Cte d'Ivoire. Not only did he support the continuation of the Houphouet model, but Mr Gbagbo insists that Mr Ouattara, whose parents are from Burkina Faso, is not a true Ivorian. He detects a foreign plot to recolonise his country.

Seemingly convinced that God is on his side, Mr Gbagbo is ensconced in his presidential office, defended by diehard loyalists, and prepares for his final conflict. Mr Ouattara, whose own supporters have been accused of human-rights abuses, seems likely to eventually claim the prize. His reward will be a damaged and divided land.

John Rapley is the Bradlow fellow at the South African Institute of International Affairs. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and rapley.john@gmail.com.