ANALYSIS:Widespread illiteracy makes an uprising more difficult to foment in the former French colony
FOR A few months each year, a cool wind rolls south from the Sahara Desert, carrying a veil of mud-coloured sand from Libya that darkens the skies over its southern neighbour, Chad. It coats palm trees in grit, dries out the atmosphere, brings down the temperatures from 40-plus degrees, and grounds aircraft. This year, the dry-season harmattan has delivered more than dust and cold air to the Chadian capital, N’Djaména: whispers circulate of revolution, raising questions that have remained unspeakable here for the 21 years since Idriss Déby Itno seized power in a military coup.
Pamphlets calling for a Chadian uprising similar to Libya’s have been exchanging hands. Graffiti messages sprayed late at night on walls in the city centre, calling for an end to Déby’s iron rule, are efficiently washed away in the early hours by an ever-increasing number of army patrols. However, one graffiti tag, sprayed near the US embassy building, has so far been spared, to no surprise of locals. It reads: “Gadafy will remain president of Libya.”
Chad’s part in the collective silence of sub-Saharan leaders on the Libyan crisis has hardly raised an eyebrow here. After all, Déby, known as IDI, owes his political career to Muammar Gadafy: it was with the colonel’s support that IDI toppled the French-backed Hissen Habré in 1990. With his man in place, Gadafy dropped previous territorial claims to large parts of Chad, and has since played a crucial role in Déby’s struggle against armed insurgencies and in Chad’s peace talks with Sudan.
Ironically for someone who declines hotel accommodation and instead pitches a nomad tent wherever he travels – including, in 2007, the gardens beside the Élysée Palace in Paris – Gadafy oversees a healthy real estate portfolio in Chad. This includes, under the auspices of the Libya Arab African Investment Company, the five-star Kempinski Hotel in N’Djaména, where his photograph hangs alongside Déby’s in the lobby; and a new development of luxury villas next door that housed visiting dignitaries during recent celebrations marking Chad’s 50 years of independence.
Libya has invested heavily in Chad’s telecoms sector, and the two countries have been involved in talks on establishing a joint tax-free transport company to facilitate bilateral trade.
The colonel’s economic stake in Chad, coupled with Déby’s debt and undoubted loyalty to him, partly explain the absence of IDI’s voice from the international chorus of outrage against Gadafy. Chad’s minister for foreign affairs merely called for Libya’s problems to be resolved though dialogue, while a government statement described reports of Chadian mercenaries fighting in support of Gadafy as “scandalous and malicious”. But Déby, like so many African leaders in the region, also clearly fears that his mentor’s troubles will prove contagious. And so a news blackout on the Libyan uprising was imposed on the public radio and television service.
However, a large swathe of Chad’s 11 million population can pick up Radio France Internationale and in hotels in the capital, the Kempinski included, international TV stations such as Africa 24 and France 24 keep viewers informed. While state media remained silent, foreign-based channels also covered last week’s protests – quickly suppressed by police – in neighbouring Cameroon, where demonstrators called for the ousting of their president of some 30 years and Déby’s close ally, Paul Biya.
The prospect of an uprising is not new to the Chadian president – he survived coup attempts in 2006 and 2008. This time, though, his potential opponents far outnumber the rebel groups of previous occasions: in a country that should be enjoying the social benefits earned from rich gold and uranium resources as well as recently discovered oil, the Chadian people have instead witnessed the blatant enrichment of a privileged few while poverty remains rife and illiteracy rates are a shocking 78 per cent among women and 66 per cent among men. And while the oil finds have been concentrated in the more populous south of Chad, the ruling class and those nominated to top jobs are predominantly northern, from Déby’s own minority Zaghawa ethnic group. Last year Transparency International ranked Chad the eighth most corrupt state in the world, an improvement from a few years back when it held the honour of first place.
“What are we afraid of?” asked a front-page editorial in the outspoken opposition newspaper N’Djaména Bi-Hebdo this week, referring to the number of troops on the streets. The city was under “a veiled state of siege”, it said, and conjectured that the stepped-up army presence might also be linked to fears of a backlash over the announcement of provisional results of recent legislative elections, which showed a comfortable victory for Déby’s MPS party.
More soldiers on patrol, it said, could be seen as a provocation and might backfire, leading to the very situation the authorities are trying to avoid. Despite its forthright views, Chad’s opposition press – one biweekly and a handful of weeklies – poses little threat to the regime in a country of such high illiteracy. Internet access, too, is minimal, and so would be an unlikely tool in any organised revolt.
“Maybe 2 per cent of people have internet access – and even then it’s usually at their workplace, so not very private,” said journalist and correspondent for Deutsche Welle Radio, Louis Deubalbet. “There won’t be an uprising like Libya’s. People here just aren’t in a position to get organised like in other countries. And then there’s the question of the lack of education.”
Another factor against revolution is the composition of Déby’s army – which Amnesty International last week reported as counting child soldiers among its ranks – where the vast majority of troops, handpicked for their loyalty, are also members of his minority ethnic group. The real winds of change might not yet have reached Chadian territory.