Qaddafi’s “Afro-Enthusiasm” Causes Concern in West

By Lucy Jones

Col. Muammar Qaddafi’s decision in May to send Libyan tanks, weaponry and soldiers to the Central African Republic to help President Ange-Felix Patasse put down rebellious units of his army was an unexpected turn in what initially was perceived by the outside world as another coup in Africa. Within hours of the arrival of Libyan military aircraft, Libyan tanks were patrolling the main street of the capital, Bangui, while sophisticated Libyan-supplied weaponry was quickly mounted onto the local army’s fleet of pickup trucks and paraded around the city.

Libyan soldiers fought side by side with loyalist troops to oust the rebels—led by former President André Kolingba—who, in addition to storming the president’s residence, seized control of the radio and television stations and key residential areas. “Their role was crucial, as they had heavy artillery,” admitted Gen. François Bozize, head of the Central African Republic’s ground troops. “Libyan troops were also used to push back the enemy.”

The Libyans were able to set up a radio station called “Peace and Liberty” to allow the president to address the nation.

There were unconfirmed reports of between 4 and 12 Libyan fatalities during the fighting, which lasted two weeks. Officials say 59 people—including civilians and soldiers—died in the bloodshed, although human rights officials say the figure was almost certainly higher.

Thanks in part to Libya’s intervention, Bangui now is relatively calm. Much to the perturbation of the French and Americans, however, Qaddafi’s men have stayed on. No one knows exactly how many Libyans remain in the run-down capital, but diplomats guess that their number exceeds the official figure of 20. “They’re playing an advisory role to the military,” is all a Libyan diplomat in Bangui would say. “No one knows how long they will be here.”

Having failed to create Arab unity, Qaddafi’s new project appears to be Africa. For several months, the Libyan leader of three decades has been rushing around the continent with his entourage of female bodyguards, pushing his pan-African ideas.

In July, Qaddafi pledged millions of dollars in assistance to President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe in advance of upcoming elections. In addition to providing nearly $1 million to the ruling party for its campaign, Qaddafi approved a $360 million oil deal that will end Zimbabwe’s current fuel crisis.

Also in July, the Libyan leader personally delivered 1,000 tons of drought aid to Kenya, and was feted when he visited Uganda for the second time in as many months to meet the country’s boy king, President Yoweri Museveni.

Libya’s involvement in Africa is not confined to grand gestures bound to attract media attention, however. Qaddafi has sent envoys to the Ivory Coast and to war-torn Sierra Leone. In May, he persuaded Sudan and Uganda to restore diplomatic relations, as a step toward ending their proxy war. Tripoli promised to provide Ghana with enough fuel to resolve its shortfall, and regularly offers similar help to the Central African Republic. It also is at the center of a peace initiative with Egypt aimed at ending the civil war in Sudan. Meanwhile, Libyan oil wealth is bolstering the economies of countries in the African Sahara.

Only a few years ago, a single Libyan soldier in French-speaking Africa might have been enough to bring in France’s Foreign Legion. But no more. The French and British have withdrawn much of their traditional economic and military support for their ex-colonies. “Britain gives most of its aid to Asia these days,” said a British civil servant in London. “The portion given to Africa is small.”

During the 1996 mutinies in the Central African Republic, when the country still hosted France’s largest military base in Africa, the French jumped to Patasse’s rescue, deploying French soldiers and helicopters. This time, however, it was clear there would be no assistance forthcoming.

President Patasse looked elsewhere for help, and Congolese soldiers as well as Libyan personnel came to his aid. When up against the wall, other African nations also are looking in the immediate neighborhood rather than to their former colonizers overseas, and Libya often is there with generous handouts.

The end of the Cold War has much to do with Qaddafi’s successful entrance onto Africa’s political stage. When there was more than one world superpower, African countries received economic and military aid in exchange for treaties that allowed Washington or Moscow access to military bases on the continent. Many of those alliances have ended, leaving the path clear for Qaddafi.

The colonel’s recognition has increased as a result of Libya’s growing influence in Africa. He is likely to be hailed as the founding father of the new African Union which, replacing the 37-year-old Organization of African Unity, will have a commission, central bank and parliament.

Qaddafi’s newfound visibility follows two decades of Western humiliation during which Libya was the target of U.S.-led bombing raids in the 1980s and international isolation caused by U.N. sanctions over its alleged support for international terrorism. (Nor has the U.S. changed its policy, having recently extended for five years sanctions against Libya and Iran.)

Some Leaders Skeptical

Some African leaders, however, have balked at Qaddafi’s “Afro-enthusiasm.” Those who want a modern Africa are appalled when Qaddafi speaks of “going back to an Africa of tribes and king.” They also ask why, if the colonel preaches peace and unity, he pursues divisive policies, such as support for Liberia’s war in West Africa. In northwest Libya last September, Libyans killed some of those their leader had called “brother Africans.” The outbreak of violence was followed by the repatriation of some 4,000 Chadians—hardly a good advertisement for the unified Africa Qaddafi claims he wants.

At the African Union meeting in Zambia, Qaddafi had offered to house the continent’s parliament. This was declined outright, however, as he does not allow one for Libya.

But for poorer nations, friendship with Qaddafi can result in useful financial assistance. Much of the foreign policy of Africa’s impoverished countries is driven by their search for international aid and revenue. When money has not been forthcoming from the West, African leaders have unhesitatingly approached the Arabs for money, often unashamedly exaggerating their Islamic credentials.

The Central African Republic’s Jean-Bedel Bokassa, who at astronomical expense crowned himself emperor in a Napoleon-style coronation, famously converted from Christianity to Islam and back again within hours. In 1976 Bokassa announced he was adopting the Islamic faith and the name Salah Eddine Ammed, and pocketed Libya’s gift of $2 million. No sooner had Qaddafi boarded his flight back to Tripoli, however, than Ammed the Muslim said he had again become Bokassa the Christian.

Yet there have been some seemingly genuine converts to Islam among Africa’s club of rulers. El Hadj Omar Bongo of Gabon, for example, adopted Islam in 1974. And Muslim populations in sub-Saharan African nations are seeing a resurgence of their faith.

This religious revival has been helped along by the presence of scholars from the Gulf states who a few years ago started arriving in Africa in great numbers, as well as by large donations, particularly from Saudi Arabia, for the construction of mosques. The arrival of these Muslims has been a matter of consternation to Christian missionaries who have been in Africa for more than a century. “We lost Chad to the Muslims,” lamented Polly Strong, a missionary in Bangui for the U.S.-based Baptist Mid-Missions.

Qaddafi has been able to capitalize on the desire of Africa’s Muslims to look to the Arab world for identity, rather than to their former European colonizers. This, of course, has not been without reverberations elsewhere.

American citizens in the Central African Republic were horrified when there was talk of Libya evacuating U.S. nationals to Tripoli during May’s crisis. Inevitably, Libya’s new zest for Africa reportedly is causing growing concern in the U.S. State Department as well as in many Western embassies in Africa. “The Americans will most likely keep a presence in the Central African Republic,” commented an observer in Bangui, “just to keep an eye on the Libyans.”

The French, who still maintain a certain amount of control on the landlocked country—especially over the exploitation of strategic minerals and oil—say its former colony can look where it wants for help. “The Central African Republic is an independent country,” insists a French diplomat in Bangui, “even though its rulers have a tendency to blame France when things go wrong.”

The reality, however, may be less sanguine. Last August, Libya’s ambassador to the Central African Republic, Al-Sanoussi Awad Abdallah, was murdered in the ordinarily safe capital. The motivation of the killers remains unclear. “One possibility,” said an African diplomat based in Bangui, “is that the French carried out the murder to give a clear message to the Libyans: stay out of our backyard.”

President Patasse dismisses Western concern at Libya’s presence in his country. “Qaddafi is a personal friend,” he explained. “He’s a Muslim and I’m Christian, we understand perfectly the African problem, and it is upon my request that he has sent a small team to protect me. It was I who asked. If the West has a problem with the Libyans, it should look at those problems itself,” he insisted.

It is unclear how much money Qaddafi is prepared to spend on his Africa adventure, and it remains to be seen how loyal African rulers will be to their new benefactor. Given the continent’s present conflicts, moreover, it is also questionable whether a “United States of Africa” would actually work.

For their part, the Europeans and Americans have made it clear they do not like Qaddafi’s new presence in the region. But until they match his offers, Libya’s influence in Africa is likely to grow.

Lucy Jones is a free-lance journalist based in London.