France's poisoned legacy in the Central African Republic By David Smith

Latest mission to the former colony in 2013 was to protect people displaced by sectarian conflict – now French troops are accused of engaging in child abuse

People flee Bangui for Cameroon by road in 2014 Photograph: AFP

It was named Operation Sangaris, after a butterfly with a tiny lifespan native to central Africa. France hoped that its peacekeeping mission in the Central African Republic (CAR) would be similarly short-lived.
“The situation in the Central African Republic has become alarming, and even terrifying,” the French president, François Hollande, said in December 2013, ordering the deployment of 1,200 troops to reinforce the 400 already stationed there. “This operation will be short.”


Now the French troops sent to protect the tens of thousands displaced by the cycle of violence stand accused of exploiting the lawlessness engulfing CAR to engage in brutality themselves.
Some say France, with its long imperial history in Africa, is still motivated by guilt after its failure to halt the 1994 Rwandan genocide. More recently, it has launched successful armed interventions in former colonies including Ivory Coast and Mali. Its continued political, economic and military presence meant it was better placed than any other major power to intervene in the CAR, one of the most failed and forgotten states on the continent.

The poisoned legacy of French colonialism in the CAR has been half a century that saw five coups, a self-declared emperor whose lavish coronation was inspired by Napoleon, and barely functional infrastructure and institutions. Its natural wealth of gold, diamonds, timber and uranium has attracted warlords such as the cult-leader-like Joseph Kony.

The latest debacle was triggered in March 2013 when president François Bozizé, mired in corruption, fled by helicopter after being ousted by an unwieldy coalition of rebels, bandits and guns for hire known as the Séléka. One of its leaders, Michel Djotodia, declared himself president, becoming the first Muslim to rule the majority-Christian nation of 4.6 million people.

Médecins sans Frontières described it as “a crisis on top of a crisis”, which only deepened a few months later when Djotodia tried to disband and disarm the Séléka. The rebels span further out of control, killing, looting and burning villages. Predominantly Muslim, they were joined by mercenaries from neighbouring Chad and the dreaded Janjaweed from Sudan’s Darfur region.
In retaliation, some Christians took up arms in vigilante militias known as “anti-balaka” — meaning anti-machete — and launched counterattacks against the Séléka and perceived Muslim collaborators. They perpetrated atrocities of their own, giving the Séléka a pretext for yet more aggression. The cycle of violence swept up thousands of child soldiers.

For all its troubles, the CAR had not previously suffered sectarian conflict and the world was slow to respond as the death toll ran into thousands. Warning that the CAR stood “on the verge of genocide”, France ordered the deployment of 1,200 additional soldiers, following a call for help from the interim government and a UN security council resolution. They joined 3,500 soldiers from a central African support mission.

At the start of 2014, a quarter of the country’s entire population was internally displaced. International pressure forced Djotodia to step down, and soon the Séléka were retreating north, where they continued to target Christians. But as the anti-balaka made inroads elsewhere, villages emptied of their Muslim populations, with homes looted and mosques torched. In the capital, Bangui, the Muslim population dropped from up to 145,000 to just 900.

Members of the mainly Christian anti-balaka militia in February 2014. Photograph: AFP

Amnesty International called it ethnic cleansing and warned of a Muslim exodus of historic proportions. Many Muslims were left feeling resentful towards French peacekeepers and the new president, Catherine Samba-Panza, a Christian who studied in France and has two of her three children living there.

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By September, the number of French soldiers had risen to 2,000 – still insufficient to cover remote villages often inaccessible by road in a territory bigger than France itself. They remained answerable to the French defence minister and distinct from the central African contingent, which evolved into an African Union (AU) force and then an expanded UN peacekeeping mission.

Human Rights Watch issued a warning that said: “Horrendous killings in southwestern Central African Republic indicate that the French and AU peacekeeping deployment is not protecting remote villages from deadly attacks.”
The number of French soldiers has dipped slightly and elections are due later this year, but violence between the Séléka and the anti-balaka continues. “Even though it no longer makes the headlines, the Central African Republic is still deep in the quagmire, with little sign of progress or even hope,” The Daily Maverick website noted earlier this month.

David Smith, a director of Okapi Consulting and CAR analyst, said: “French forces have come and gone in the CAR over 50 years. There have been very few periods in that geographical space when they have not been there.”
Asked if they had made a positive difference this time, Smith replied: “Absolutely, because no one was in charge in the CAR when they deployed. If the French forces had not secured the airport and the route to the border with Cameroon then the situation would not have been stabilised, food supplies and medicine would not have reached Bangui and a lot more people would have died. The African force at the time was not able to do it.

“Is it enough? No. The country is one and half times the size of France and there are areas with no roads. There are deaths going unreported and vast parts of the country where no one knows what’s going on. What’s really needed in the CAR is a functioning national army but I don’t think the international community has the appetite, time or resources to stay long enough to make it work.”

David Smith is the African correspondent of The Guardian. He is also a director of Okapi Consulting and a CAR analyst.