A Brief Historical Sketch

The country formerly called "Limbotho" was one of the French colonies along West Africa's "Ivory Coast" which became independent in 1960-61. Up to that point its history largely parallels that of other French African colonies such as Cote d'Ivoire, Senegal or Mali. But a distinctive item in the nation's early development is the nearly-universal acclaim and respect afforded to its first President, Jean-Henri Alo.

Educated in Paris, Alo was admitted to the French Bar in his mid-20s. He was also an accomplished musician, and became known in the dynamic Paris jazz scene of the 50s (and placed his idols, Miles Davis and John Coltrane, on Limbotho's early postage stamps). Politically, Alo was an individualist libertarian. In his speeches, which were often memorable, he always stressed freedom and individual rights, and often quoted Thomas Paine. Alo also frequently returned to themes of self-reliance and common sense, and he was fond of quoting Benjamin Franklin, and Benjamin Banneker, a little-known African-American inventor of the early 19th century.

Alo believed in minimal government, and local control of social services and functions, to the greatest extent possible. In some areas, such as the notable refusal to legislate against such "victimless crimes" as prostitution or drug possession, Alo's libertarian influence survives to the present day. However, the nation's political system soon veered into a more conventional path.

Limbothans of all walks of life (the nation was re-named after Alo's death) displayed a remarkably potent sense of national pride and purpose in the nation's first three years of independence. This was largely due to the inspiration of the beloved Alo, but also to their good fortune in enjoying a relatively peaceful and orderly transition to independence. Limbotho's progress was often held up in the western (particularly French) press of a shining example of the "new Africa". Much was accomplished by volunteerism in the nation's first three years: schools were built and modernized; local clinics and libraries were established. But, the glowing reports often had a "human interest" focus, and failed to note the growing strains in the Alo regime's attempt to run a modern nation as though it were a village. Shortages, unrest and occasional violence intensified as Alo's illness began to remove him from the day-to-day work of "administering his nation".

After Alo's death of cancer in 1964, elections were held and his protege, Laurent Wodie, was elected President by a large majority. The regime capitalized on the huge popularity of its late founder and re-named the country. Because of its "libertarian" stance, the United States was friendly to Alodia, and advised it in many ways. Ironically, however, US influence manifested itself in such "socialistic" measures as a vastly increased central government, a reorganized, greatly expanded, bicameral legislature, and a huge increase in taxes and tariffs. There was certainly a need for public revenue; the economy could not achieve further growth without a commitment to public infrastructure. The Wodie government adopted a tax system that imitated the US: income taxes that hit the middle class, sales taxes that socked the poor and a long list of protective tariffs. However, Alodia lacked the buoyant economy of the United States, and the new taxes took a heavy toll on growth. To make matters worse, the new public sector failed to invest wisely; public works ended up being accomplished less effectively, in many cases, than previously under the informal, local-volunteerism system.

A major project in Alodia's (and indeed, in Africa's) history was begun in 1968: the building of the Alo Dam across the Jasil river and the flooding of Lake Banneker. This massive hydroelectric project was undertaken with much foreign expertise and borrowed money, and it is debated to this day whether it was, on balance, more damaging than beneficial to Alodia. Many thousands of farmers, mainly Mandinka, who lived along the Jasil were relocated. The impact of this huge "social re-engineering" upon other areas was supposed to be favorably balanced by the vibrant new industrial/commercial growth made possible by the dam's power. But the economic benefits of the dam -- which were considerable -- were widely seen as being distributed unfairly, and the large amount of foreign control over the facility (and the subsequent Jasil River Authority) were greatly resented.

Another aspect of the Alodian economy that was complicated by the flooding of Banneker was the mining of the Aichacite, the brilliant bluish-green gem that was first discovered in 1964, and is found nowhere else in the world. It was found beneath the Atagal highlands to the west of the river, and mined in primitive 100-foot shafts -- until the entire area was flooded. Extensive marketing had made the gem popular -- and then the flooding of the lake made it all-but impossible to mine. High prices motivated many tragic attempts at mining the gem, in which hundreds of people died. Alodian technology was not equal to the task of securing deep-water mine shafts. Finally in 1981 a French firm was given a long-term franchise to mine the gem. However, Aichacite had become one of the rarest and most sought-after gems in the world, and the company's profits far exceeded the price of the leases it paid the Alodian government.

By the mid 1970s, all the promises of Alodian independence, and the new frontier to have been created by the Alo dam, had come to very little, and things were looking very "third- worldish" in Alodia. There had been bad harvests and famines, the gemstone and tourism industries had become stalled, and foreign debt was growing. A guerilla movement took advantage of the US's post-Vietnam isolationist feelings and waltzed rather easily into power in 1975. (It later became evident that although the guerrillas claimed full independence from any other organization, they were supported by both the Alodian Army and the Soviet Union.) The new President, Amil Boutetour, pledged a "brand new day": a socialist people's republic that would reverse the thievery and divisiveness of the previous decade. At this point Alodia's history began to parallel that of Tanzania. There was massive economic and political restructuring, most of which paying little attention to market discipline. Although there was still widespread graft at the top, the gap between haves and have-nots narrowed. At the same time, though, there was tremendous economic stagnation, and a new round of foreign borrowing. The country's economy was operating at a net loss during this period, continually relying on credit to meet its payments. An informal economy flourished in the countryside, however, and was more or less encouraged by the government, as it had the effect of relieving pressure on the cities.

In the 90s, after the Soviet Union fell apart, Alodia's disorganized socialism became almost totally fragmented, and the country adopted an economic policy that was really little more than month-to-month crisis management. The informal economy surged, of course, and drug trafficking became much more widespread and important. Control over the aichacite mines was hotly contested and the mines were seized outright by the army in 1999.

During this period, two segments of society functioned quite a bit better than the rest, and gave some reason for hope. One, of course, was the military. As Gen. Akuopha explained in his inaugural speech, the Alodian army started out strong (Jean- Henri Alo did not stint on national defense) and was enriched by the US, the French, later the Soviets, and still later (it was widely rumored), by the cocaine trade. The army maintained a high level of morale and discipline, and often functioned alongside the national government rather than under it (this was explicitly seen in the army's behind-the-scenes support for the 1975 Boutetour coup). It was fortunate in that although it maintained high levels of preparation for decades, it never had to fight a real war. Military careers were generally considered respectable and desirable. Discipline and secrecy was absolute; the Alodian army was never successfully investigated by anyone either inside or outside the country.

The other area that still functioned tolerably well was the public education system. This probably owed a good deal to the memory of Alo, for whom education was always a top priority, but it also received much attention under the "socialist" Boutetour regime. Teachers were well-respected and paid surprisingly well, on a par with medical doctors. Alodia achieved the distinction common to some developing countries of being forced to export highly trained personnel because it lacked the jobs to employ them.

Recurring debt crises forced concession to foreign demands for economic restructuring and political openness in the 1990s. A national election was held in 1992, and Jacques Oshodi, a moderate "Social Democrat" was elected. A new constitution was adopted, which mandated a return to the legislative structure of the 1960s -- but it was clear that political power resided with the Presidency and various Cabinet members with ties to foreign and domestic industry. The familiar imposition of "austerity measures" led to widespread unrest and outbreaks of rioting on many occasions.

The 1990s also saw the emergence of another political force that is, perhaps unique to Alodia, although its influence appears to be spreading to other countries: the "Christian Coalition". It is unclear what connection this movement has with its namesake in the United States; its activities encompass an eclectic mix of protestant evangelism and native mysticism. Its position on the AIDS crisis -- that AIDS is a result of dissolute, un-Christian lifestyles -- has created much controversy. It is, nevertheless, an official -- and growing -- political party, and it has used the media with considerable skill.

The recent coup was the first time in Alodia's history that the Army has taken center stage -- although its pervasive influence has always been apparent just beneath the surface. It would seem that some foresighted council of military men sat down during the Alo era and, realizing that instability and insecurity were to be the lot of postcolonial Africa for decades to come, laid their plans for a secure military estate in all weathers. If so, then their success laid the foundation for the latest, most striking turn in the Alodia story.