Not knowing how to quit the stage when the ovation is loudest is one of the banes of African presidencies. Once they become celebrated as heroes, the power, allure, perks and appurtenances of the office get into their heads and they begin to think they are the best thing their citizens discovered since sliced bread. They begin to think they are indispensable.
They contrive all sorts of creative ways to remain perpetually in power. They forget that in their struggle to get to power, they didn’t fight alone. They forget that those underneath them have aspirations and ambitions, too. They forget that they have subordinates and supporters who are angling for the presidency as proof of their own upward mobility in life.
You could see Mugabe in nearly the same light as Nelson Mandela. He fought apartheid; fled to exile in Mozambique, went to jail for 10 years and won the election to rule the same country he fought to liberate. But that’s where the similarities end. Unlike Mandela, Mugabe was not magnanimous in victory
Those people, sensing that you do not want to leave, start to conspire against you. They may even challenge your authority or rebel directly against you. You put down their rebellion in the most brutal way because you know they know your secrets and the secret to your staying power.
How on earth does anybody enjoy being in one position (when it is not a company you own) for more than four years? I would be bored to death! Also, most reasonable people believe that if you stay too long in one position, you get too comfortable and you start cutting corners.
It happens to everybody at their places of work; which is why employers rotate people around to create new challenges and new sets of motivating factors. You tend to think you already know everything and how best to do everything. Your mind is closed to new ideas. People who patronise your business know and see you as the alpha and omega of the company.
They know what they need to do to win favours from you. Before you know it, you are steeped in corrupt practices. You become severely compromised. And when that happens, you are afraid to leave out of the fear that your successor will discover all your crimes and prosecute you.
For all his notoriety, you’d be surprised to learn that ousted President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe was not the longest-serving leader of an African country, despite having ruled Zimbabwe for 37 years.
That ignoble title goes to Equatorial Guinea’s Teodoro Obiang’ Nguema, who has been ruling his country since 1979, after overthrowing his uncle. Nguema, interestingly, appointed his son, Teodoro ‘Teodorin’ Obiang’ Mangue, as Vice President last year.
Apparently, that country of just 1.2 million people-less than half the population of Ibadan-is more or less a Limited Liability Company of the Obiangs…until a couple of soldiers will grow a pair of balls and decide to end that nonsense.
In the category of sit-tight African leaders are also presidents Dos Santos of Angola (also since 1979), Paul Biya of Cameroon (since 1982), Yoweri Museveni of Uganda (since 1986), Omar al-Bashir of Sudan (since 1989) and Idriss Deby of Chad (since 1990). Clearly, something in the water that these leaders drink makes them believe they are the only ones destined, or possessing the monopoly of wisdom on how to govern their respective countries. Even in the light of apparent growing unpopularity among their people, and more strident opposition to their rules, these leaders shamelessly dig in.
A coup, a military coup d’etat, is an aberration, always an aberration, whether bloody or not. It is a change of government accomplished by the use of (or the threat to use) the state’s instrumentalities of coercion, particularly the military.
But the hypocritical, selective, self-serving condemnation of military coups by ‘democrats’ from the West and those of us in Africa (including myself) does not proffer cogent solutions to the plague of eternal presidencies. Right now in Togo, the people are fighting to remove President Faure Eyadema, who has been ruling them since 2005 and still wants to continue ruling them. Faure succeeded his father, Gnassingbe Eyadema, who, as a sergeant, carried out the first coup that overthrew and killed the first post-independence leader of Togo in 1963.
He installed a stooge as president , but overthrew him, too, in 1967. Eyadema ruled Togo from 1967 until his death in 2005. In other words, between father and son, they have successively and consecutively ruled the same country for 50 years, except the 20-day inconsequential interregnum during which Bonfoh Abass held office. Which means, if you are 60 years old, the only leader of Togo you really can remember is an Eyadema. And on the other side of Nigeria, you have Cameroon. If you are 60 years old, you only have a vague recollection of one Ahmadou Ahidjo as Cameroonian president. Then you have Paul Biya. That’s it.
But Mugabe wasn’t always this unpopular. He was, in the ‘70s and ‘80s, the doyen of African revolutionaries, when he led the Zimbabwe African National Union to fight the white minority government of Ian Smith during the Rhodesian Bush War-the struggle which culminated in the overthrow of white minority rule in Southern Rhodesia (later Zimbabwe) and the general elections of 1980, which Mugabe led the Zimbabwe African National Union-Patriotic Front to win.
You could see Mugabe in nearly the same light as Nelson Mandela. He fought apartheid; fled to exile in Mozambique, went to jail for 10 years and won the election to rule the same country he fought to liberate. But that’s where the similarities end. Unlike Mandela, Mugabe was not magnanimous in victory. He went after the white minority people and snatched their lands (forcibly at times) in a widely-criticised re-distribution of land exercise.
He took farm lands from the original white owners and gave them to blacks, most of whom did not have the foggiest ideas or the financial wherewithal with which to operate profitable farms. This, of course, led to a steady decline in food production, and the country which was one time the bread basket of the region now became another basket, leaking food. You must have seen video clips of empty supermarket shelves and sparse foodstuff at the local markets. Hunger took over the country.
Yet, Mugabe continued to display the warped sense of entitlement that the country of 16 million people (less than that of Lagos State) is his private entity. For 37 years, he enjoyed the power to hire and fire every Zimbabwean. The military, an extension of his ZANU-PF, was beholden to him until the coup happened.
Even at 93 and clearly out of full sentience, Mugabe still called the shots. Or his wife did-which was, some have said, the catalyst for the coup that ultimately resulted in his recent ignominous ouster.
*Ladepo is a US-based Nigerian security expert and veteran journalist. He can be reached through oluyole2@yahoo.com
N
ot knowing how to quit the stage when the ovation is loudest is one of the banes of African presidencies. Once they become celebrated as heroes, the power, allure, perks and appurtenances of the office get into their heads and they begin to think they are the best thing their citizens discovered since sliced bread. They begin to think they are indispensable.
They contrive all sorts of creative ways to remain perpetually in power. They forget that in their struggle to get to power, they didn’t fight alone. They forget that those underneath them have aspirations and ambitions, too. They forget that they have subordinates and supporters who are angling for the presidency as proof of their own upward mobility in life.
Those people, sensing that you do not want to leave, start to conspire against you. They may even challenge your authority or rebel directly against you. You put down their rebellion in the most brutal way because you know they know your secrets and the secret to your staying power.
How on earth does anybody enjoy being in one position (when it is not a company you own) for more than four years? I would be bored to death! Also, most reasonable people believe that if you stay too long in one position, you get too comfortable and you start cutting corners.
It happens to everybody at their places of work; which is why employers rotate people around to create new challenges and new sets of motivating factors. You tend to think you already know everything and how best to do everything. Your mind is closed to new ideas. People who patronise your business know and see you as the alpha and omega of the company.
They know what they need to do to win favours from you. Before you know it, you are steeped in corrupt practices. You become severely compromised. And when that happens, you are afraid to leave out of the fear that your successor will discover all your crimes and prosecute you.
For all his notoriety, you’d be surprised to learn that ousted President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe was not the longest-serving leader of an African country, despite having ruled Zimbabwe for 37 years.
That ignoble title goes to Equatorial Guinea’s Teodoro Obiang’ Nguema, who has been ruling his country since 1979, after overthrowing his uncle. Nguema, interestingly, appointed his son, Teodoro ‘Teodorin’ Obiang’ Mangue, as Vice President last year.
Apparently, that country of just 1.2 million people-less than half the population of Ibadan-is more or less a Limited Liability Company of the Obiangs…until a couple of soldiers will grow a pair of balls and decide to end that nonsense.
In the category of sit-tight African leaders are also presidents Dos Santos of Angola (also since 1979), Paul Biya of Cameroon (since 1982), Yoweri Museveni of Uganda (since 1986), Omar al-Bashir of Sudan (since 1989) and Idriss Deby of Chad (since 1990). Clearly, something in the water that these leaders drink makes them believe they are the only ones destined, or possessing the monopoly of wisdom on how to govern their respective countries. Even in the light of apparent growing unpopularity among their people, and more strident opposition to their rules, these leaders shamelessly dig in.
A coup, a military coup d’etat, is an aberration, always an aberration, whether bloody or not. It is a change of government accomplished by the use of (or the threat to use) the state’s instrumentalities of coercion, particularly the military.
But the hypocritical, selective, self-serving condemnation of military coups by ‘democrats’ from the West and those of us in Africa (including myself) does not proffer cogent solutions to the plague of eternal presidencies. Right now in Togo, the people are fighting to remove President Faure Eyadema, who has been ruling them since 2005 and still wants to continue ruling them. Faure succeeded his father, Gnassingbe Eyadema, who, as a sergeant, carried out the first coup that overthrew and killed the first post-independence leader of Togo in 1963.
He installed a stooge as president , but overthrew him, too, in 1967. Eyadema ruled Togo from 1967 until his death in 2005. In other words, between father and son, they have successively and consecutively ruled the same country for 50 years, except the 20-day inconsequential interregnum during which Bonfoh Abass held office. Which means, if you are 60 years old, the only leader of Togo you really can remember is an Eyadema. And on the other side of Nigeria, you have Cameroon. If you are 60 years old, you only have a vague recollection of one Ahmadou Ahidjo as Cameroonian president. Then you have Paul Biya. That’s it.
But Mugabe wasn’t always this unpopular. He was, in the ‘70s and ‘80s, the doyen of African revolutionaries, when he led the Zimbabwe African National Union to fight the white minority government of Ian Smith during the Rhodesian Bush War-the struggle which culminated in the overthrow of white minority rule in Southern Rhodesia (later Zimbabwe) and the general elections of 1980, which Mugabe led the Zimbabwe African National Union-Patriotic Front to win.
You could see Mugabe in nearly the same light as Nelson Mandela. He fought apartheid; fled to exile in Mozambique, went to jail for 10 years and won the election to rule the same country he fought to liberate. But that’s where the similarities end. Unlike Mandela, Mugabe was not magnanimous in victory. He went after the white minority people and snatched their lands (forcibly at times) in a widely-criticised re-distribution of land exercise.
He took farm lands from the original white owners and gave them to blacks, most of whom did not have the foggiest ideas or the financial wherewithal with which to operate profitable farms. This, of course, led to a steady decline in food production, and the country which was one time the bread basket of the region now became another basket, leaking food. You must have seen video clips of empty supermarket shelves and sparse foodstuff at the local markets. Hunger took over the country.
Yet, Mugabe continued to display the warped sense of entitlement that the country of 16 million people (less than that of Lagos State) is his private entity. For 37 years, he enjoyed the power to hire and fire every Zimbabwean. The military, an extension of his ZANU-PF, was beholden to him until the coup happened.
Even at 93 and clearly out of full sentience, Mugabe still called the shots. Or his wife did-which was, some have said, the catalyst for the coup that ultimately resulted in his recent ignominous ouster.
*Ladepo is a US-based Nigerian security expert and veteran journalist. He can be reached through oluyole2@yahoo.com
