Disarmament and elections? Not likely, say ordinary Ivorians

Whatever their political persuasion, there are two things that most ordinary people in war-divided Cote d’Ivoire agree on. There is virtually no chance of disarmament starting on schedule next week and presidential elections planned for October to restore peace to this West African nation are a pipe dream. “There won’t be elections here, that’s for sure,” said Oregean Delesse, an out-of work computer technician in the de facto capital, Abidjan. “To have peace in this country, we will be obliged to go through war first.” Cote d’Ivoire has been split into a government-controlled south and a rebel-held north since an unsuccessful plot to topple President Laurent Gbagbo three years ago. An array of international mediators have since tried and failed to bring the crisis in the world’s top cocoa grower to an end. South African President Thabo Mbeki is the latest to take up the challenge. Since a crunch summit he hosted in Pretoria in April, some important hurdles have been cleared but other key obstacles remain. And many Ivorians predict that Mbeki will be forced back to the drawing board on 27 June, the day that a repeatedly delayed disarmament programme is supposed to start. “I don’t think disarmament is going to happen. The rebels don’t want to disarm because they have got a taste for their new way of life that the weapons have brought them - the villas, the cash, the girls,” said 58-year-old businessman Jose Bru, who lives in Yopougon, a suburb which is home to many Gbagbo supporters. “And how can we have elections when all those weapons are still out there?” his neighbour Jean Hie chimed in. On the other side of the buffer zone, patrolled by 10,000 UN and French peacekeepers, residents in the rebel-run north of Cote d'Ivoire are equally pessimistic, although most who care to speak their mind blame the president for the impasse.

Will the rebels start disarming on 27 June?

"It's obvious there will be no disarmament on the 27th and we're heading back towards conflict, particularly when you look at the way Gbagbo is talking," said Olivier Konan, a 32 year-old electrician in the rebel capital Bouake. "I think war is inevitable." The 27 June starting date for disarmament was agreed at a meeting of government and rebel chiefs in mid-May. However, rebel leaders are now publicly denying that they ever committed themselves to handing in guns on that day. They say crucial laws on nationality have still to be passed by parliament in Abidjan and that pro-government militias must be fully disarmed before the rebels begin to surrender their own weapons to UN peacekeepers. An eruption of ethnic violence in the volatile cocoa-growing west of the country earlier this month may also have complicated the situation. More than 100 people were shot, burned and hacked to death near the town of Duekoue. Pro-Gbagbo militia groups and the rebels have blamed each other for sparking the series of tit-for-tat killings. Worried about what comes next Diplomats and human rights analysts say both sides may use the deadly clashes as another excuse to hold onto their guns. But the immediate impact of the killings has been to raise the fears of a population that is already struggling to get by in day-to-day life. "We're very worried about what comes next. What happened at Duekoue, could extend across the country," said Adama Toure, who used to work at the port of Abidjan, but has spent the last year drinking tea with his fellow unemployed friends. Indeed, just last week ethnic feuding spread to the south-eastern corner of Cote d'Ivoire. Hundreds of migrant cocoa farmers said they were driven from the village of Danguira, just 50 km north of Abidjan, after locals set fire to their homes. "The politicians have forgotten their people. They simply do things for their own interests, We're stressed out and frightened that things will deteriorate, but we don't know how or when," 29-year-old Toure said. "We wake up every morning, wondering what's going to happen." Other Ivorians say that even if disarmament does go ahead as planned next Monday, the elections are not guaranteed. "Even if the disarmament deadline is stuck to, I think it would be difficult to hold elections on 30 October. People still don't have identity cards and the electoral list has not yet seen the light of day," said Christian Assemian, a local government official in the working class suburb of Abobo, an opposition stronghold in Abidjan. The UN mission in Cote d'Ivoire (ONUCI) has insisted that elections are the only way out of the crisis, and Gbagbo delivered the same message in a televised broadcast to the nation last Friday. But the president has also said publicly that if the polls are not held for any reason, he will remain in power. "The opposition won't want that. If that happens, I think the situation will get worse. A return to war is possible, the rebels will be obliged to react," Toure, the unemployed port worker, said. Worried that the peace process in Cote d'Ivoire is once more veering off course, Mbeki has invited the warring factions to a fresh summit in South Africa that has already been dubbed Pretoria II. Summit fatigue However, many Ivorians have summit fatigue and are gloomy about what real progress can be achieved. “It’s been three years we've been suffering with this crisis. We are tired of all these accords. It’s always one step forward and then two steps back. Nothing changes," said Hamed Karamoko, a metal worker in Abidjan.

Ivorians like Hamed have lost faith in political negotiations

Before the conflict broke out in September 2002, this former French colony was viewed as an economic success story. Abidjan's modern skyscrapers and broad urban freeways still bear witness to the country's relative prosperity but more and more Ivorians are complaining about the economy sliding backwards. "I am not pro-rebel or pro-president, I’m just pro-peace and pro-jobs. We should be too busy with orders to talk to you. But look at us! Because of the crisis, all we do is sit around and wait to see what will happen to us,” he added, shrugging his shoulders. "If I had the money, I would leave this country." Some people, like Zoumana Ouattara, a teacher in the rebel stronghold Bouake, think responsibility for resolving the crisis lies with the president. "I wish that Gbagbo would understand that our country is heading to the wall and do something to improve the situation," Ouattara said. Others think that the international community needs to play a bigger, tougher role. "The world is a global village now, that's what everyone says. If instability returns to Cote d'Ivoire, it risks spreading to other countries in the region. I think that the international community should maybe even impose peace here," said Assemian, the local government official in Abobo.

For Mariam, the crisis takes second place to earning enough to eat

"Sanctions have to be applied. If not, there's a risk that they will be accused of failing to help a population in danger, like what happened in Rwanda," he said. But many of the poorest people living in this West African nation feel removed from the political wrangling. They have more pressing concerns. "I'm tired of this crisis and it's not just me. Everyone round here says the same. I'm not really following the elections. I don't really understand what's going on, I didn't go to school and it all makes my head spin," said 30-year-old market vendor Mariam Kone. "My priority is getting on with day-to-day life. I just try to earn my living from selling my yams and bananas," she said. "As for peace? Well all any of us can do is pray to God."