Business as Usual

David Orders examines the motivation behind French intervention in the Ivory Coast.

So far, 2011 has been a big year for questionable interventions. Since the Arab Spring uprisings began in Tunisia with the Jasmine Revolution, newspapers, blogs, journals and nightly television news have reported an unexpected and encouraging spree of democratic action across North Africa. Alongside these images of Gadaffi’s burning tanks, there have also been questions about the legitimacy of the intervention in Libya. Less attention, however, has been given to the British intervention in nearby Sierra Leone back in 1999, and this year’s intervention in the Ivory Coast.

At first glance, the circumstances of the Ivory Coast’s recent intervention seem straightforward. After years of delay, 2010 saw elections take place across the state. French company Sagem was employed to collect lists of potential voters in a country with a fluid and largely illiterate population alongside an ineffective state in need of help, initiating French participation in the electoral process from the onset. As part of a wider international commitment to resolve the recent civil war through the disarmament of rebels and reconciliation through a free election, France donated billions in CFA francs to help fund the election process. Independent watchdog CEI was created to ensure that the vote was counted accurately, and the African Union sent multiple mediators to the election. The results were clear: the incumbent President Laurent Gbagbo had lost to Alassane Ouattara. However, Gbagbo disagreed, claiming that the election had been rigged and that a recount was necessary.

The consequences of Gbagbo’s stalling wrought destruction on the Ivory Coast as an exasperated Ouattara rallied rebel forces and descended upon the capital, Abidjan, leading a vicious siege of the presidential compound. Despite calling on Gbagbo to resign, the UN remained firmly outside of the conflict until late March when loyalist special forces attacked UN headquarters, leading to the deployment of attack helicopters and thousands of French troops.

Gbagbo’s actions are perplexing – what sense is there in provoking the United Nations and France into a conflict? A shooting match between the militarily powerful French and Gbagbo’s beleaguered semi-professional forces could only have one result: a swift defeat for the incumbent President. Perhaps his aim was to scare off the UN – in which case, Gbagbo failed. The French blasted holes into the presidential palace to take out ‘heavy weaponry’, clearing the way for rebel forces to advance and capture Gbagbo. Paris has been clear about the circumstances of this final battle – the French merely assisted the rebels in capturing the errant President.

Below the Surface

In this instance, the intervention in the Ivory Coast seems a case of warranted intervention. An autocratic, egocentric and stubborn leader was removed by the forces of a democratic and legitimate President in co-operation with UN-supported French forces. It is a satisfying conclusion, a rare moment of UN success and legitimate intervention. However, digging deeper reveals that French interests in the Ivory Coast are more convoluted than a mere desire to see democracy in action.

Firstly, the Ivory Coast was part of the French Empire until independence in 1970. Since then, France has viewed the Ivory Coast and other Francophonie African states to be areas of French interest, remaining involved in West African affairs to a high degree. In terms of both ‘soft power’ such as loans, investment, trade agreements and the use of French currency, Africa consumes 5 per cent of French exports. It is not a huge amount, but considering the poverty of Africa this constitutes a notable stake in African spending. Furthermore, some 240,000 French expats live in the ex-colonies, most often in positions of economic power and political influence. In terms of ‘hard power’ such as military bases and intervention, French foreign policy is defined by considering Francophonie Africa to be a ‘neighbour’, meaning ‘African troubles are also French troubles’. Since the 1960s, France has stationed 12,000 troops in Africa and has intervened in African states 19 times.

Despite achieving independence, French influence has never left the Ivory Coast. Following the privatisation and opening up of the economy in the 1990s, French businesses rushed to buy up large portions of the economy – 40 per cent according to international affairs journal Ocnus. After 46 years of independence, France still controls much of the infrastructure and holds foreign currency reserves as part of the 14-nation Franc Zone. The national airline, telephone, electricity and water companies, as well as some major banks, are all French-controlled. The recent civil war has been a blip on otherwise continually lucrative business for the French. Immediately following the deployment of French forces, French shipping company CMA CGM announced that it was ready to resume full transport of cocoa from Abidjan to France.

And what of the rightly elected president, Alassane Ouattara? From a Parisian perspective, Ouattara is an ideal candidate. Educated in the United States, he graduated with a degree in Economics from the University of Pennsylvania in 1972. He has worked both in the upper levels of the International Monetary Fund and the Central Bank of West African States, and is a committed economic neoliberal. Ouattara married Dominique Folloroux, a wealthy French woman who had access to then-President of the Ivory Coast Félix Houphouët-Boigny, as well as a property management company through which she managed Houphouët-Boigny’s presidential estate. French business with African interests took note: at Ouattara’s wedding both Martin Bouygues, head of the Bouygues Industrial group, and the disgraced business mogul Jean-Christophe Mitterrand were in attendance.

Should Foreign Intervention Naturally Take Place When Democracy is at Risk?

Legitimate intervention is based upon the doctrine of the Responsibility to Protect, outlined following the international community’s failure to save hundreds of thousands of lives during the Rwandan genocide. Essentially, the principles underlying the Responsibility to Protect come into effect when crimes against humanity are being committed – covering genocide, enslavement, torture, deportation, imprisonment and persecution against any identifiable group based on political, racial, national, ethnic, gender, cultural or religious grounds.

While Colonel Gadaffi had been shelling civilians, undoubtedly committing crimes against humanity, Gbagbo demanded an election recount. Perhaps the Gbagbo regime did not fulfil the criteria warranting UN intervention, but a case could certainly be made for nipping a long and protracted civil war in the bud by picking and supporting a winner. A partisan intervention can still be valid if both democratic freedoms and lives are protected.

For the French, the Ivory Coast intervention has been a complete success.  Corrupt, socialist-leaning Gbagbo has been replaced by neoliberal and pro-French business Ouattara, Western democracy has been reinforced, a bloody civil war has been averted and a much longed-for display of decisive French power and influence has benefited all. However, considering the absence of ‘crimes against humanity’, doesn’t intervention seem somewhat heavy-handed? Would states with a history of systematic abuse of human rights such as Zimbabwe or Syria be more appropriate subjects of intervention?

The intervention in the Ivory Coast demonstrates that interventions often require more than just a good cause – in this case, extensive levels of business interest and warehouses full of cocoa were part of the package. A stable Ivory Coast is a lucrative one, even more so when a French-leaning free market-focused President is in power. Apart from the occasional African dissident, most of the world has either appreciated the French role in ousting Gbagbo, or simply turned a blind eye.

Past Experiences

Sierra Leone was wracked by civil war for years, ending in 1999 with a British military intervention. Sierra Leone’s intervention incidentally pave the way for the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq; then Prime Minister Tony Blair was surprised at the effectiveness with which a small force of British troops helped to prop up a government and eliminate a vicious insurgency. A decade on, Sierra Leone is still staggeringly under-developed, regardless of the millions of pounds and years of expertise that have since been supplied by the UK. The UK has very quietly stepped back into a familiar pair of shoes. Military intervention has given way to political intervention, as a new relationship between ex-colony and ex-coloniser has emerged. British influence in Sierra Leone is ongoing and extensive. British officials monitor the Government at all levels, with the goal of moving Sierra Leone towards a Westernised democratic nation. Samura Kamara, the country’s Finance Minister, has welcomed increased British influence, referring to the relationship as a ‘new kind of partnership’.

Intervention in Sierra Leone may feel unsettling in today’s post-colonial world, but independence does not always mean an equal relationship between states. Tony Blair himself appeared ill at ease when he last visited the nation, receiving the title of ‘Paramount Chief’ and celebrated as a national hero on the streets of Sierra Leone’s capital, Freetown. Nevertheless, Sierra Leone is at peace and has found a foothold once again on the ladder of development, thanks to British support.

However, the legitimacy of Blair’s intervention is not easy to assess. The UN granted no mandate to the British to intervene, nor to remain. Yet the British acted, and lives were saved. In light of the successful intervention, it seems that the Sierra Leoneans have allowed the British to restructure their country.

Perhaps Tony Blair has indeed set a precedent for small, tidy interventions that open the door for a new type of relationship between Europe and West Africa. Sarkozy has shown that both democracy and business can be served in one package.

David Orders is in his final year of a Masters of Political Economy.

David Orders examines the motivation behind French intervention in the Ivory Coast.