Teething problems of democratisation and tests of political maturity hit Madagascar, notes Gamal Nkrumah Numerous spontaneous responses to the twin predicaments of poverty and democracy in Africa have been leaps into the dark. The Indian Ocean island-nation of Madagascar, off the eastern coast of Africa, is no exception. This week saw the catapulting to power of a handsome young musician to the tune of the military. The political crisis is very much one of both a glass half-full and a glass half-empty. The seven-week political exigency gripping Madagascar culminated this week with an ugly showdown between the democratically-elected president and the country's chief opposition leader. As Al-Ahram Weekly went to press, the African Union was still refusing to recognise the disc jockey heart-throb as president. Popular uprisings claimed the lives of 150 people, and in the end the DJ usurped power, first throttling and then booting the tycoon president to the political sidelines. So what are the lessons of Madagascar's President Marc Ravalomanana's ordeal? He had amassed great riches during his presidency, retrieving prize assets from foreign multinationals. The homily on the social responsibility of tycoons to their impoverished compatriots preached by the president wreaks of hypocrisy. The electoral authorities might approve of a millionaire at the helm, but the masses were not amused. Given the severity of the crisis, it seems unlikely that Madagascar's power-brokers, the military, could not have intervened. These veritable kingmakers work from behind the scenes and as we all know, their scurrilous grapevines luxuriate in shuttered rooms and let them know when they should get into motion and move to the beat. And they did. Admittedly, Ravalomanana was Madagascar's most experienced political leader, one whose message of laissez-faire has earned him the reputation of a capitalist messiah in the traditionally inward-looking Indian Ocean island nation of 20 million people. However, to his people's chagrin, Ravalomanana's actual message was far less grandiose. Ravalomanana was forced to resign, handing over power to the upstart Andry Rajoelina precisely because the people no longer believed in him -- he lost all credibility. Ironically, he won two terms in office thereby indicating that his people trusted him to begin with. The president tried to appeal to the youthful nation by speaking of life-changing and mind-broadening opportunities for the country's youth. However, his reckless privatisation and deregulation programmes have yielded few tangible results for the many unemployed. The vast majority of Madagascar's population is poor, with some 20 per cent living below the poverty line. The rest barely make ends meet. It is against this backdrop that chief opposition leader Rajoelina, a former mayor of the island's capital Antananarivo, called for the president's prompt arrest after last year's elections, which he lost by a quarter tone. The 59-year-old president was no match for the juvenile hipster. However, the army was no longer taking orders from Ravalomanana, though his presidential guards appeared to be loyal to him to the bitter end. Indeed, the army itself seems to be split into two camps -- those that support Ravalomanana and those that don't. A referendum proposed by President Ravalomanana and scheduled to be held within three months is supposed to determine the immediate political future of the island-nation. Voters were to be asked if they support the sitting president. If they didn't, nationwide presidential and parliamentary elections were to be held. Now no one knows if and when the fat lady will sing her final aria. The big question is how much longer Ravalomanana will be able to hold out. Rajoelina says that he will create as many opportunities for Madagascar's population as possible. Both men are presumably looking closely at the country's prospects which at the moment look pretty grim. It is not necessarily surprising that Rajoelina rejected the notion of a referendum outright. "As far as we are concerned, the referendum has already been held." Western donors and trading partners are waiting to gauge the effects of changes driven by political and public pressure in Madagascar. Rajoelina says that he has a mandate to lead a government, even though under the constitution he is ineligible to rule since he is only 34 years old. Under the Madagascar constitution the minimum age of the president is 40. Ravalomanana himself at almost 60 is youthful enough -- at least he does not look his age. Elements of the army have already stormed the presidential palace and Ravalomanana fled to a presidential retreat on the outskirts of Antananarivo, 15km from the city centre. He is holed up somewhere in the vicinity of the capital, and it is unlikely that he would be participating in the transitional administration headed by Rajoelina. Rajoelina has vowed to fight to the death with or without AU, UN and whatever approval. Hundreds of Ravalomanana supporters are acting as human shields, and they too are prepared to die, or so they say. Huge explosions rocked Antanananarivo as rival factions took to the streets of the capital. "The people have spoken. They are of one mind. Ravalomanana must resign. He no longer wields any power," Rajoelina noted. This last assertion is partly true. The army declared that it no longer accepted orders from Ravalomanana, who won the last two presidential elections. This was crucial to the course of action by Rajoelina and his supporters. This was not exactly a coup but it was certainly not real people's power either. The problem with Madagascar is that unlike other member states of the African Union it does not produce strategically important minerals such as plutonium or uranium. Worse, it is a net oil importer. It has a long way to go before escaping aid dependence. It earns a pittance from tourism, and the forced sacking from office of Ravalomanana would undoubtedly reduce the number of tourists venturing into the country to zero. Moreover, the global financial and trade crisis has hit commodity exporters like Madagascar with a sharp drop in commodity prices and trade. Madagascar exports a little coffee and some vanilla, but that is unlikely to furnish the island nation with riches. Madagascar's political crisis will only mean more unemployment, homelessness and even hunger and starvation. That is a price Madagascar cannot afford to pay. Madagascar's new leaders have to find viable means of fighting poverty. That means toning down Ravalomanana's emphasis on economic deregulation and privatisation. He loved to see his supporters dance attendance on him. What are the long- term solutions? Will the charismatic DJ provide the answers? His pledges to help the poor might be music to the ears of the masses, but he's really just dancing in the dark.
