Warring sides may soon disarm but can they ever bury the hatchet?

A programme of disarmament is to kick off in war-torn Cote d'Ivoire in mid-May and afterwards former enemies will be reunited into a single national army. But soldiers on both sides of the front line are uneasy about how this will actually work. "It's easy to say all these things about reintegration in a meeting," said Corporal Toulaud Mackanzie of the government's National Armed Forces of Cote d'Ivoire (FANCI). "But for the rebels to come here and stand side by side with us, that's something else." Following a failed coup by break away soldiers in September 2002, Cote d'Ivoire was split in two with the mutineers holding the north of the country and the government-loyal troops retaining the south. A peace deal was signed in France the following January, most of the key points of the deal -- including a programme of disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration (DDR) -- have still not been implemented. The suspicion and mistrust that has been running high for almost three years may be difficult to overcome. Not to mention the personal vendettas. "Those rebels killed my grandmother. How can we work together after that?" said Mackanzie, who comes from Toulepleu in western Cote d'Ivoire - an area which saw some of the heaviest fighting at the first four months of the conflict. "It's not the army commanders that were at the front line. They didn't have to kill anyone. I did," he went on. "I was the executioner. When we captured our enemy they would ask for a volunteer to shoot them and I would step forward." "I don't know how many I executed like that. It was war," he said. "Lots of my people were killed. It was the memory of their deaths that gave me the strength to be the executioner." A fellow FANCI soldier from the west, who would only identify himself with his nom de guerre 'Killer', spat his agreement. "They chopped the children of my older brother to bits - small children!" Reintegration headaches? However, if recent agreements are adhered to, the rebels known as the New Forces would eventually be reintegrated into FANCI's ranks. The New Forces leadership are reticent about just how many will be eligible to join the national force. An unknown quantity of New Forces combatants are new recruits with no previous military experience. Though these new recruits on the streets of Bouake say their commanders have promised them a place in the post-war force, should they want it, only the original military can be guaranteed a place. At a peace summit led by African Union mediator and South African President Thabo Mbeki earlier this months, the sides agreed on 14 May as the new date for weapons to start being handed over to UN peacekeepers. After that, FANCI spokesman Colonel Jules Yao Yao explained, the restructuring and reintegration of the two military sides will begin although no date or formula has yet been drawn up. "The issue of the reconstruction of the military will be discussed further from the 2 to 6 of May," said Yao Yao referring to scheduled disarmament talks in Cote d'Ivoire's official capital of Yamoussoukro. But asked whether long-standing ethnic divisions in the armed forces will be addressed, the FANCI spokesman became indignant. "There were some organisational problems in the army, that is sure. And these will be addressed in the restructuring. But there were no ethnic problems. And if there were, these were marginal," Yao Yao told IRIN. The rank and file of both the New Forces and FANCI disagree -- like "Chief Beardy", a rebel soldier, so called on account of his lustrous black beard. Tucked away in a corner of a smoke-fogged teahouse in the rebel stronghold of Bouake, he lit up another cigarette and gave his take on the problem. "We took up arms to vindicate our identity in the country," he said as smoke curled out of his nostrils. "We were too frustrated before the war; the army was a difficult place for northerners." "If your name was Koulibaly, Ouattara or Diarra - names that are common in the north - you stayed in the lower ranks," chimed in one of his men who refused to be named. "We hope that after the war that disparity will finish. We all want equality," his commander said, seizing back the conversation. Other side, same story On the opposite side of the battle line, government FANCI soldiers agree that ethnicity was a problem in the pre-war army. "The senior officers would favour their ethnic group, if you were lucky and your superiors were the same ethnic group as you, you had more opportunity for promotion," explained Mackanzie. "It's all about who is a real Ivorian," agreed 'Killer', jabbing the table with his finger and chewing furiously on his gum. "They're obviously not, as they wanted to kill their brothers!" His comrade Mackanzie, talks about old friendships he had with some of the leading rebel soldiers before their lives became engulfed by war. They include Cherif Ousman, a prominent New Forces officer. "I was friends with him before the war. He was based here in Abidjan," said Mackanzie. "It's not Ousman's fault. He's not Ivorian. He's from Guinea," he explained. Another old pal was a senior Bouake-based soldier Siaka Ouattara, known as 'Ouattao'. "He used to be the FANCI judo champion. He was my best friend. But if I'd seen them at the front I would have had to kill them," Mackanzie says dispassionately. But when the idea of speaking to Ouattao on a mobile phone is touted, Mackanzie beams and seizes the handset. "Hey Champion!" he bawls at the six foot plus former judo medal holder, who these days sports a passion for gold jewellery. After some reminiscing and lots of laughter, the two enemies are swapping phone numbers and promising to meet up for a beer, despite the fact that only moments ago, Mackanzie was solemnly vowing to kill any New Forces soldier that dared step foot in Abidjan. "The thing is, I understand what Ouattao did," Mackanzie mused, attempting to explain his apparent about-turn. "If the West had risen up like the North, then I most probably would have joined." "You know, they called me at the beginning of the rebellion. They said they needed good men. I was offered money, but I said 'No'," he added, pulling deep on another cigarette. "Also my heart wasn't in it. And I was scared for my family. I have three children here and my wife and my parents. I had to think of them," he said. Mackanzie ground out his cigarette and crumpled up the empty packet. He waited for a small boy to come back with a fresh one before shuffling to his feet to leave. "You asked me how many," he said as he turned to go. "It was 27 - I executed 27 at the front."