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Côte d’Ivoire : une stabilisation en trompe-l’œil
Côte d’Ivoire : une stabilisation en trompe-l’œil
Forced out of Towns in the Sahel, Africa’s Jihadists Go Rural
Forced out of Towns in the Sahel, Africa’s Jihadists Go Rural
Op-Ed / Africa

Côte d’Ivoire : une stabilisation en trompe-l’œil

Originally published in Jeune Afrique

Seul survivant politique parmi les trois hommes qui se disputent le pouvoir depuis 1995, Alassane Ouattara est favori pour remporter aisément l’élection présidentielle du 25 octobre.

Henri Konan Bédié, leader du Parti démocratique de Côte d’Ivoire (PDCI) et ancien chef de l’État, a volontairement écarté son parti de la compétition pour faciliter la victoire du président sortant. Laurent Gbagbo, son adversaire en 2010, est en prison. Ses sept concurrents du moment n’ont ni l’envergure, ni le soutien d’un grand parti qui leur permettraient de gagner. L’enjeu n’est donc pas tant le résultat d’une élection à priori sans surprise que sa suite et les choix qu’effectuera le président Ouattara pour les cinq prochaines années s’il est réélu.

Sans un changement profond dans les domaines politique, sécuritaire et judiciaire, une nouvelle phase de crise violente reste possible en Côte d’Ivoire. Celle-ci pourrait intervenir en 2020 lors d’une élection ouverte et disputée où s’affrontera une nouvelle génération de politiciens issue des années de crise et de guerre ; ou avant si la santé de Ouattara ne lui permet pas d’aller au terme de son mandat.

L’exclusion politique est toujours de mise

Il y a deux manières de lire le bilan du premier mandat du président sortant. Après cinq mois d’un conflit armé qui a fait 3 000 morts, ce dernier a hérité, en mai 2011, d’un pays profondément divisé à l’économie affaiblie par les épisodes successifs d’une longue crise. Le président Ouattara a réussi à relancer la croissance économique et à réformer avec succès le secteur du cacao, dont la Côte d’Ivoire est le premier producteur mondial. Il a réunifié un pays coupé en deux espaces administratifs distincts depuis le coup d’État manqué de septembre 2002 et a, peu à peu, mis fin aux actes de guerre. Tel est le bilan dont se prévaut, à juste titre sans doute, le candidat Ouattara.

Mais ce bilan, revu dans ses détails, est moins positif qu’il n’y paraît. Il s’agit en fait d’un trompe-l’œil. Les raisons profondes ayant plongé la Côte d’Ivoire dans un conflit long et violent subsistent et le président Ouattara a fait finalement très peu pour démonter la mécanique infernale ayant mené à la « crise ivoirienne ».

L’une des premières causes de cette instabilité est l’exclusion d’une partie de la population de la représentation politique. La mise à l’écart d’Alassane Ouattara, originaire du Nord, lors des élections de 1995, a créé frustrations, divisions et rancœurs. Elle a conduit au putsch de décembre 1999, orchestré par une poignée de sous-officiers nordistes estimant que le rejet de Ouattara pour « nationalité douteuse » était finalement celui de tous les Ivoiriens du Nord. En 2000, l’exclusion de la présidentielle des candidats Ouattara et Bédié a eu des conséquences similaires et conduit, deux ans plus tard, à la partition du pays.

Malheureusement, l’exclusion politique est toujours de mise en Côte d’Ivoire.

Ce scrutin est marqué par l’auto-exclusion du PDCI qui ne présente pas de candidat. En convainquant Henri Konan Bédié de retirer sa formation de l’élection où elle ne participe qu’en tant qu’allié du parti présidentiel, Alassane Ouattara a écarté le seul adversaire qui pouvait encore l’empêcher de remporter un second mandat. Le troisième grand parti de la scène politique, le Front populaire ivoirien (FPI), est également profondément divisé. Son candidat est rejeté par la base et par une partie significative de la direction du parti qui a appelé au boycott de l’élection. Comme en 1995 et en 2000, un seul des trois grands partis ivoiriens sera donc pleinement représenté par un candidat lors de cette élection, le Rassemblement des républicains (RDR) d’Alassane Ouattara. Dès lors, pour beaucoup d’Ivoiriens, le choix politique est très restreint. Aucun candidat ne les représente. Nombreux seront aussi les Ivoiriens ne pouvant pas voter car la liste électorale reste limitée à 6,3 millions d’inscrits pour un pays de 17 millions de citoyens.

La présidence Ouattara s’est en outre caractérisée par un accaparement des grands postes institutionnels et sécuritaires par des hommes originaires du Nord, ce qui perpétue le sentiment de rejet au sein d’une partie de la population. Les présidents de l’Assemblée nationale, de la Commission électorale indépendante et du Conseil constitutionnel sont tous originaires du septentrion, comme d’ailleurs le ministre de la Justice et le directeur du Trésor. De même, l’organigramme sécuritaire s’appuie sur un chef d’état-major des armées, un ministre de l’Intérieur et un chef des renseignements issus de la même zone géographique que le président Ouattara.

Les enjeux de l’après-élection

Un prochain mandat du président Ouattara devrait être l’occasion d’une franche redistribution des cartes et de la recherche d’un meilleur équilibrage politique entre les différentes régions et institutions du pays. La modification de la Constitution, qui donne un pouvoir exorbitant au président, très peu à l’Assemblée nationale et aux pouvoirs locaux et pas du tout à l’opposition, devrait également être à l’ordre du jour. Faute de représentation, d’accès aux finances publiques et aux prébendes, opposants et exclus du système risquent d’utiliser d’autres moyens que le vote pour accéder au pouvoir ou aux avantages qui lui sont associés.

L’un de ces moyens est la violence armée qui reste une option possible pour deux raisons. La première est le désordre qui règne toujours dans les forces armées, traversées par plusieurs chaines de commandement, et dont de nombreux éléments continuent d’obéir à d’anciens chefs de guerre et s’adonnent encore et toujours à la prédation. Alassane Ouattara a échoué à réformer l’armée, où d’anciens responsables de la rébellion des Forces nouvelles (FN) occupent toujours une place prépondérante et où les anciens officiers pro-Gbagbo sont marginalisés. En cas de nouvelle bataille pour la conquête du pouvoir, des morceaux entiers de cette armée sans unité sont susceptibles de se détacher et de rejoindre un camp ou un autre.

La seconde est la disponibilité des armes de guerre. En dépit d’une opération de désarmement officiellement achevée cet été, non seulement les armes circulent toujours en très grand nombre en Côte d’Ivoire mais des stocks de matériels militaires importants échappent au contrôle des pouvoirs publics. Ils sont aux mains d’opérateurs politiques et militaires régionaux ou nationaux. Le 25 mars dernier, le groupe d’experts des Nations unies a ainsi mis à jour l’existence d’un entrepôt de 60 tonnes de matériel militaire dans la région de Korogho, à l’extrême Nord du pays, et sous le contrôle de Martin Kouakou Fofié, un ancien chef rebelle sous sanctions onusiennes.

La question cruciale de l’impunité

Outre le danger pour la paix civile que laisse planer l’existence de tels arsenaux, ceux-ci posent la question cruciale de l’impunité. À ce jour aucun membre des anciennes Forces nouvelles n’a été jugé pour les crimes commis entre 2002 et 2012. La justice reste profondément partiale et déséquilibrée. Elle nourrit un fort sentiment d’injustice dans l’esprit de nombreux Ivoiriens et freine toute possibilité sérieuse de réconciliation.

Dans quelques jours ou semaines, le président Ouattara disposera très probablement de cinq ans supplémentaires pour faire passer son pays du stade actuel de la stabilisation à celui de la normalisation. Celle-ci sera accomplie quand l’éventualité d’une nouvelle lutte violente pour le pouvoir ne se posera plus en Côte d’Ivoire.
 

A convoy of Chadian soldiers stop near the front line in the war against the insurgent group Boko Haram in Gambaru, north-east Nigeria, on 26 February 2015. REUTERS/Emmanuel Braun

Forced out of Towns in the Sahel, Africa’s Jihadists Go Rural

Jihadist groups have regrouped in the neglected hinterlands of Sahel countries and are launching attacks from them. To regain control of outlying districts, regional states must do far more to extend services and representation beyond recently recaptured provincial centres.

Armed jihadist groups have developed a dangerous new strategy after being chased out of most major towns they once held in Africa’s Sahel, the vast expanse of arid, sparsely populated brushland that crosses the continent along the southern edge of the Sahara desert. 

Rather than trying to hold towns or urban districts, these groups – which include al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM), Boko Haram, the Macina Liberation Front (FLM) and al-Murabitoun – are using bases in the countryside to strike at provincial and district centres, often forcing national armies to retreat and local state authorities to abandon immense rural areas to jihadist control.

A map of the Sahel region. Crisis Group

At the same time, increasing international support has inadvertently reinforced the historical tendency of Sahel countries – which include parts of Mauritania, Burkina Faso, Niger, Mali, Nigeria, Cameroon, Libya and Chad – to focus relatively more on the political centre and neglect their vast territorial hinterlands. Unless these trends are reversed, efforts to minimise the threat from jihadist groups operating in this huge region will likely fail.

Jihadist armed groups have been operating in central and western Sahel since the 1990s. Over time, and despite limited efforts to block their rise, some groups grew and eventually took control of vast territories, as in northern Mali in 2012 and north-east Nigeria in 2014. The initial response was largely military and, with the help of regional and Western allies, Sahelian governments succeeded in chasing out jihadist groups from all the major towns that they had occupied and destroyed most of their heavy weapons.

But these military successes have not been accompanied by the return of government administration in “liberated” areas. African armies and their allies were often unable to restore security in the countryside, or even in the outskirts of some cities. Civil servants could or would not follow the military into still insecure zones, leaving vast areas run by skeleton administrations, and few, if any, public services. The state’s persistent absence from the region around Lake Chad, along the Mali-Niger border and in central Mali, has allowed jihadists to establish and expand their presence there.

International support has had the side effect of reinforcing Sahelian countries’ tendency to focus on the political centre

Furthermore, increased international support has had the side effect of reinforcing Sahelian countries’ tendency to focus on the political centre, where governing elites and the bulk of voters live. This is because it is quicker, cheaper and more politically expedient to provide public services in cities and towns rather than to thinly populated and often nomadic rural settlements. The end result is the relative neglect of their vast territorial hinterlands. For example, access to public school varies dramatically between urban and rural areas and by region. According to Mali’s last Demographic and Health Survey (2013), the male literacy rate is 69 per cent and female 47 per cent in urban settings (72 and 51 per cent in the capital, Bamako), but only 27 and 12 per cent respectively in rural areas (only 20 and 10 per cent in the Mopti region, the lowest in Mali even before jihadist groups started to shut down public schools).

After withdrawing from urban areas and dispersing in order to escape attack, jihadist groups have consciously adapted to the new situation. As shown by internal AQIM correspondence discovered in the Malian city of Timbuktu in 2013 and the intra-Boko Haram discussions and splitting of the group in June-July 2016, mounting pressure from regional armies has not robbed these organisations of their capacity to evaluate past failures and develop new strategies.

The spectacular assaults on West African towns and capitals carried out since 2013 (Bamako in Mali, Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso and the beach resort at Grand Bassam in Côte d’Ivoire) are not, from this point of view, the most important change. More significant is the consistent attacks on local capitals and towns, which compel the armed forces to prioritise garrisons there and to abandon immense rural regions. For example, repeated jihadist attacks in and around Gao, Mopti and Timbuktu in Mali have forced government troops and peacekeepers to increase security in these cities and significantly limit the number of forward operating bases and patrols in rural areas. There are a few exceptions, like the Kidal region, where the French army’s presence and numerous patrols prevent groups such as Ansar Eddine and AQIM from exerting full control. Yet this requires mobile and capable military forces that cannot be deployed everywhere. The jihadists can consolidate their control in this security vacuum.

Setting aside, for the moment, their territorial ambitions, the jihadists have opted for a more discreet occupation of neglected rural areas. They are not alone. Other armed groups, including ethnic militias, self-defence groups, transnational criminal groups, armed bandits, renegades from national armies and even separatist and autonomist movements, are also emerging to fill the security vacuum left by central states. Not all are opposed to the state, but each of them tries to find a niche in a complex and shifting local network of alliances. Depending on local configurations of power and interests, these groups fight jihadist groups, simply ignore them to avoid trouble, or even make alliances with them.

All these armed movements demonstrate a genuine capacity to understand and adapt to local circumstances, and do so better than less-motivated capital-based elites or foreign “peacekeepers”. They are also unlike separatist groups that tend to downplay local tensions when they weaken their “nationalist cause”, or transnational criminal networks that are mostly interested in transporting goods through territories. Instead, jihadist groups are willing to settle down and are developing an expertise in manipulating local intra and intercommunal tensions.

The jihadists are most successful at establishing themselves among rural communities that were only recently integrated into countries.

Jihadist groups use a mix of threats and persuasion to consolidate their position, providing limited services to some communities, most notably security and some rough rule of law. In central Mali, jihadist groups now offer protection to pastoralists and their herds, and give local groups the chance to contest natural resource exploitation by government representatives or their partners in local elites. They also suspended the collection of taxes by chiefs and governments. Similarly, a Boko Haram faction has forged partnerships with the Buduma, indigenous to the Lake Chad area, by chasing out the Hausa migrants who had taken control of the flourishing fishing sector. This local alliance allowed Boko Haram elements to find refuge on Lake Chad islands while regional armies were hunting down insurgents elsewhere.

In exchange for protection or other services, jihadist groups extend their influence, develop local roots, and recruit new affiliates. For instance, some of the young perpetrators who attacked Grand Bassam in Côte d’Ivoire on March 2016 reportedly came from Mali’s rural Douentza district. State officials fled this area during the 2012 crisis and few have returned since, except for small military garrisons entrenched in towns along the only road connecting the region to Bamako. They are unable to prevent the FLM from developing its network in the vast and isolated rural countryside.

In areas where Crisis Group has conducted recent research, like central Mali, community leaders often noted they had long hesitated to turn their back on the state, unsuccessfully seeking protection and support from the capital before reaching agreement with jihadists. Unlike the region’s governments, which are not well disposed toward nomadic communities and struggle to integrate them, radical groups are often ready to consolidate their networks and acquire intelligence by recruiting local people. Boko Haram, for instance, takes the time to approach communities in the Lake Chad Basin. The group can visit repeatedly, asking those willing to collaborate for an often symbolic donation and enlisting a few local young men.

The jihadists are most successful at establishing themselves among rural communities that were only recently integrated into countries, have a weak attachment to the state and are poorly represented in parliament or local government. These include nomadic groups and communities living in border areas with supposedly doubtful loyalties, such as the Fulani nomads of Hayré, the Tolebe Fulani along the Mali-Niger border, communities living in the mountainous borders in the Gwoza Hills along the Nigeria-Cameroon border and those in the Lake Chad marshes.

However, jihadist attempts to consolidate a presence are not always successful. For example, Ansar Eddine failed to establish itself in southern Mali, on the border with Côte d’Ivoire. These areas were better integrated into the state through a solid network of elected representatives and chiefs than in central and northern rural areas, which enables Ivorian and Malian security services to arrest its members.

Rather than being satisfied with retaking control of towns, Sahelian governments and their partners must reflect on how best to respond to the new strategies used by the jihadists to establish themselves in rural areas and extend their influence. Governments must invest in neglected rural zones and communities that feel marginalised. 

A single response or general strategy is inadequate when faced with determined groups that are constantly adapting their own strategy. The regional grand strategies formulated for the Sahel as a whole must be adapted to local circumstances. It is imperative for governments to reconstruct their capacities to protect population groups, to peacefully regulate tensions around access to natural resources and to limit local elite corruption and capture of state resources.

Governments must invest in neglected rural zones and communities that feel marginalised.

Central governments must also start a discussion about local government structures to ensure better governance and representation of the most marginalised groups. They must resist the temptation to stigmatise entire communities, such as the nomadic Fulani in Mali and the Buduma in Niger and Chad, on the grounds that they are “collectively” favourable to the jihadist project. In particular, they must resist the temptation to arm communities that are reputedly closer to the government, against others that seem to be less loyal. Sub-contracting the anti-terrorist struggle to some communities is particularly liable to help jihadists establish themselves with those who are excluded, and can create future security problems.

The current situation of jihadist groups in the Sahel is a good illustration of the dynamics highlighted by Crisis Group’s report Exploiting Disorder: al-Qaeda and the Islamic State. Violent extremist groups tend not to create crises, but manipulate them. They ally with communities that feel the state is iniquitous and absent, or because they can help with conflicts about rights of access to critical resources. 

Current programs aimed at preventing or countering “violent extremism” (P/CVE) lack clarity and too easily mask the complex dynamics of jihadist recruitment. Instead, local governments and their partners should focus on the classic problems of integration, political representation and the equitable sharing of natural resources. Such classic peacebuilding policies should not be framed as P/CVE, since it risks stigmatising communities and undermining the programs. To enable officials to return safely and rebuild the state, governments and their partners must invest politically and financially in neglected rural zones and give communities that feel sidelined a stake in society. If they don’t, jihadist groups will remain a real threat for the foreseeable future.

Contributors

Deputy Project Director, West Africa
jhjezequel
Former Consulting Senior Analyst, West Africa
vincentfoucher