Angola: The Calm Before the Storm?

November 11th is Independence Day in Angola -- a national holiday marking the country's freedom from Portuguese colonial rule. But as I reported from Luanda in 1998, there appeared to be little reason for Angolans to celebrate.

For most of the past 23 years (as of 1998), Angola has been at war. A peace agreement between the government and the UNITA rebel movement four years ago was supposed to change that. But on this Independence Day, there is once again fear that a new war may be looming -- a fear voiced this week by the United Nations special envoy, Issa Diallo.

During a visit to South Africa, Mr. Diallo blamed both the government of President Jose Eduardo Dos Santos and UNITA, led by Jonas Savimbi, for pushing Angola to the brink. He said both sides are responsible for jeopardizing the country's 1994 peace agreement, known as the Lusaka Protocol.

“During the day, Savimbi is hitting the protocol and during the night, the government is beating the protocol. So after some time, the poor protocol will be in a very bad shape...”

Mr. Diallo still believes the Lusaka Protocol is worth saving. But his efforts to revive the peace process have run into a major obstacle. The government will no longer have anything to do with Mr. Savimbi, and it has blocked the United Nations from having any further contacts with the UNITA leader.

Instead, the government has thrown its support to a breakaway faction of the rebel movement, known as UNITA Renovada or UNITA Renewal. The largely Luanda-based group claims to have considerable support.

But that claim is dismissed not only by Mr. Savimbi, but by the United Nations, most foreign diplomats, independent analysts, and even some Angolan officials.

One UN official tells me bluntly, if you want to have peace, you have to meet with the guy who has the guns" -- a reference to Mr. Savimbi, who has refused to demilitarize his movement.

An Angolan official, speaking on condition of anonymity about the government's refusal to negotiate with Mr. Savimbi, says simply, "you cannot ignore him."

Publicly, the government continues to try to demonize Mr. Savimbi and his followers in an apparent effort to justify its hardline position. Daily articles in the state-controlled "Jornal de Angola" newspaper blame UNITA for a variety of atrocities.

This week, for example, Savimbi loyalists were accused of decapitating a mother and four of her children, the youngest of whom was just six months old.

Aid workers in Angola say there has been an upsurge in UNITA-inspired violence around the country in recent months, especially since September, when the government broke off all contacts with Mr. Savimbi.

But lately, they say the overall military situation has been comparatively calm. Government officials also acknowledge privately that the situation is calmer.

But with thousands of their best troops deployed in neighboring Congo-Kinshasa, they are worried about what UNITA might be planning. They wonder if this might not be the calm before the storm.

A Great Zulu Victory

Thousands of Zulu nationalists marched noisily through Johannesburg in 1997 (as in other years) in commemoration of a violent 1994 clash with African National Congress supporters that left dozens dead. Many of the Zulu demonstrators were clad in furs and skins, waving clubs and spears, chanting rhythmically, once again highlighting the fierce, warrior traditions of this famous ethnic group. Many analysts say that understanding the proud past of the Zulus is essential to understanding their demands for greater autonomy in the new South Africa. I visited one of the most important historical sites in Zululand, and had this report.

Isandhlwana is a ominous rock monolith, shaped much like the Sphinx. It looks down and across a wide, wind-swept, treeless plain, about 325 kilometers southeast of Johannesburg.

The atmosphere seems unspoiled and peaceful -- a scattering of cows here and there, a few farms, a distant school complex where children sing and play.

But on the 22nd of January, 1879, Isandhlwana was a bloody battleground -- a place where British troops, seeking to remove what their leaders saw as the Zulu obstacle to expanding British authority in southern Africa, suffered their worst-ever casualties at the hands of a strong and aggressive native opponent. More than 12-hundred officers and men were slaughtered in a disciplined onslaught by about 20-thousand Zulu warriors who overran the British positions, defying the modern artillery and Rifles of the British.

Sitting on the flanks of the Islandhlwana sphinx, looking down on the faded white stone cairns that still cover the remains of the dead, one can imagine the devastating horror -- the Zulus slapping killing spears against battle shields before charging the ill-prepared positions of British troops whose commanders thought there would be no serious Zulu military threat.

David Rattray has spent a lifetime studying Isandhlwana and leads small groups of visitors to the battle site from the secluded lodge he runs in nearby Fugitive's Drift -- a river valley named after the escape route taken by the few survivors of the slaughter. Mr. Rattray says it was not so much a British military blunder, as it has long been regarded, but rather a Zulu military triumph.

“My philosophy on this battle always has been that for far too long, we've painted this battle as a British blunder. And I think that it's high time that we arrogant English-speaking people learn to give some credit where it is sorely and surely due -- this was a great Zulu victory, and we South Africans of all races must be very proud of what happened here.”

Since he was a youth, Mr. Rattray has collected the stories of individuals who participated in the battle -- especially those of the Zulu warriors who fought at Isandhlwana, stories handed down with pride to their children and grandchildren. Although many tales of valor by British officers and soldiers are known, he counts as his favorite a story of the heroism of one aged Zulu commander who rallied his troops, pinned down in a gully, at a crucial moment when it appeared they might flee in the face of withering British rifle fire.

“That story that i got from the old man, Nand Ingobezi, who got the story from his father, Matla G'Zulu Gashayo, who commanded a wing of the great Ingobamakhosi regiment. The story of that old Zulu, Inkosana Gumvundlanda of the Biela clan in that depression where there was that Zulu regiment that was being smashed by British Martini Henry bullets and the Zulus started to waver, this old man knew that "cometh the moment, cometh the man," and he rallied the men, shouting at them, "don't you dare run away. Cetshwayo [Zulu king] never told you to run away," and then a British bullet struck him and killed him.” The Zulu soldiers, stunned into action by their commander's courage, rallied and attacked. “And that old Zulu, when he told us that story, he sat on a rock and he wept. And all his stories were told with the same melancholia because he had told me that many of the young people were no longer interested in listening to him and his stories. And I have to say that we wept too. We had to let him recover and we had to recover. The impact of that was enormous that we seem to be concerned with our heroes and he was telling me about their great hero who was the great hero of them all, Inkosana."

Despite their victory, the Zulus were ultimately conquered by the British and independent Zululand eventually became part of what is now the Republic of South Africa.

But Mr. Rattray says no one in South Africa should underestimate the Zulu people today, like the British did nearly 120 years ago.

“Our country is in an era of peace now. But there are still some major issues that have to be resolved. One of these issues is the issue of the Zulus and I suppose that if you drive the Zulu political leaders into a corner they will tell you that maybe what we should be debating these days is the illegality of that British ultimatum which resulted in the loss of independence that the Zulu nation suffered from and the indignity that resulted from that over the years."

Mr. Rattray says the lesson of Isandhlwana, in his view, is one of respect and compassion -- from which he says all good things flow, today just as in the past.

Rattray was murdered at his home in South Africa in January, 2007.

Meeting Wilfred Thesiger: A Life of Travel

I forgot to mention that this week I intended digressing from my reports on past events in Angola --- using for this interlude a few of my favorite memories from other African experiences. In the last report, we visited Lesotho (where I returned later after there was a military revolt and violence.) For today, I want to recall a chance meeting with the late great explorer Wilfred Thesiger, author of Arabian Sands and other books of uncommon travel. I and my eldest son Adam were taking a brief break – just the two of us – and because of Adam’s interest in things historic, we went to visit the sites of the Anglo-Zulu wars of the late 1800’s. Staying at a place called Fugitive’s Drift, we ran into Mr. Thesiger, whose views, suffice it to say, were rather old-fashioned:

Our lives are becoming faster-paced. And jet travel, modern telecommunications, and rugged four-wheel drive vehicles have made even the most remote places accessible. The changes are not to the liking of some, who still yearn for the old days -- when travel was much harder. One such person is Wilfred Thesiger, the British author whose explorations have taken him to such remote places as the empty quarter of the Arabian desert, the marshes of Iraq, the Danakil country of northeastern Africa and the forbidding mountains of Afghanistan. In May 1997, my son Adam and I had the opportunity to meet and chat with him in Zululand.

Now 87, Wilfred Thesiger no longer travels the hard way -- by camel or horse, or on foot. But that does not mean he likes such modern conveniences as airplanes. He especially dislikes automobiles.

“I get no pleasure at all travelling anywhere in a car. You should go on foot, go with porters, ride on a mule, ride on a horse, camel, what you like, and then as you're going along, especially if you're walking, you see plants and the ground. You look down and say what's that, and guess the tracks of a leopard or something. I hate this speed with which we are living.”

Sitting in the hot sun in the garden of a small lodge at Fugitive's Drift, near the famous Zulu battlefields of South Africa, Mr. Thesiger shrugs with displeasure. He recalls his feelings when he first heard that men had landed on the moon -- Something he learned about while on safari in the remote Turkana region of northwestern Kenya.

“I knew the Americans and everybody else were sort of flying about, trying to get on the moon and that sort of thing. I had no interest in it. And then a native Turkana fisherman pointed up at the moon and said wazungu (whites) are on the moon, and I thought what is he talking about, and then some days later I heard that the Americans had landed on the moon. And my only feeling was one of desecration and despair at the deadly technical ingenuity of modern man. Where's it going to end?”

Mr. Thesiger says that when he travelled in Africa and the Middle East, starting back in the 1930's after he attended the coronation of then Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie, there were few tourists about -- only devoted explorers, willing to endure immense hardship to reach rarely visited or completely unexplored areas.

His objection to the modern sightseer is best illustrated as he recalls his favorite photograph, taken on a visit to Morocco in the '30's.

“It's a splendid photograph and the whole foreground is filled with people and then behind them you've got these men who are on horses, four or five of them, some ceremony and galloping about and firing their guns and then behind them you've got one or two pointed houses and some palm trees and behind that you've got the snows of the Atlas mountains. And the thing that fascinates me about that photograph is I don't know how many people are in it, but I mean I suppose there could be a couple hundred people in the photograph and not a single person is a tourist. They're all Moroccans. Nobody's ever going to get a photo like that again...”

Mr. Thesiger admits the camera is one modern device which he has appreciated -- taking photographs that have illustrated his books such as "The Last Nomad," "Arabian Sands," "The Marsh Arabs," and others. But he says he has never taken a color photo -- only black and white.

Mr. Thesiger was in South Africa to visit Isandhlwana, the site of a bloody battle in which Zulu warriors wiped out a British military contingent bent on asserting control over what was then the Zulu kingdom. His grandfather, Lord Chelmsford, was the British commander.

During his stay, Mr. Thesiger met with the great grandson of the Zulu commander, Mangosuthu Buthelezi, now South Africa's Interior Minister, who presented him with a Zulu battle shield and killing spear.

He now lives in England, after years in northern Kenya. He says he has few regrets -- though he would have liked to have gone to Tibet, not today but back in the 1930's.

And had he had the chance, he would have loved to have crossed the desolate Empty Quarter of the Arabian Desert with Bedouin companions one more time.

“I mean it was rough living with these people under those conditions. But the risk of it and the danger all added to the challenge. It's the challenge of the desert.”

One of the few things Mr. Thesiger has kept from his travels is the curved dagger he wore on his crossings of the Empty Quarter. That and a walking stick from Kenya. He is not really a collector -- except of memories, memories handed down in books still cherished by readers like myself.

Mr. Thesiger died in August, 2003. He was 93. For the record, I had seen him once before --- in Maralal in northern Kenya while on safari with my entire family. That time, though, we did not sit down and talk.

Lesotho’s Migrant Gold Miners: A Future Anything But Glittering

In May 1998, there was a crisis in South Africa's gold mining industry -- a crisis brought on by low world gold prices and aging, depleted mines, which has led to the lay-off of tens of thousands of miners in recent years. Perhaps no single group has been harder hit by the job losses than Lesotho's migrant miners, who for generations have trekked down from their tiny mountain kingdom to labor underground in South Africa. I went to Maseru, Lesotho's capital, to report on their plight.

Some of them come shortly after midnight, huddling in traditional blankets through the long, cold Lesotho nights in a vacant lot across from the mines employment office in Maseru.

They want to be at the front of the line when recruiting officer David Ntlhakana emerges from his office in the morning. They hope he will announce that this or that South African gold mine needs workers, and that they will soon be on their way underground -- back to the dark, deep shafts and the kind of dirty, often dangerous work that their fathers and grandfathers have always done.

These days, David Ntlhakana has little to offer -- even for experienced miners with special skills, some of whom have been standing outside his office for over a year. Though he banters sympathetically with the men, all he can do most mornings is tell them to go home and urge them to look for other kinds of work. He says the job market for miners is the worst he has ever seen.

“Sometimes I can get an order for about 10 people and after that it takes about four months. I get another order for five people... it's very, very, very worse.”

In the last 10 years, anywhere from 50- to 70-thousand miners from Lesotho who worked in South Africa have lost their jobs. In a poor country of only two million people, a country whose economy has largely been driven by money sent home by migrant miners, that was a devastating blow.

Puseletso Salae works for the Mineworkers Development Authority, an organization set up by South Africa's National Union of Mineworkers to assist workers who have lost their jobs. It has established retraining centers in Lesotho to help former miners start new careers -- from brick or candle-making to raising chickens.

But there is a problem. Mr. Salae says the men -- who equate mining with manhood -- aren't really interested.

“They still believe that I cannot raise chickens. Someone (else) must do that, a wife -- not me. That type of work does not belong to me as a man."

Wives grew accustomed to managing family affairs independently, while their husbands worked for long stretches in South Africa without a break. Mr. Salae says once the unemployed miners are back home for good, conflicts develop, and the frustrated men often become abusive.

“They ... literally ... get, mentally affected, they go around in the village becoming mad. So they hit wives, it's happening, and then the wives run away.”

Unemployment has been linked to an increase in other social problems in Lesotho as well, including alcoholism, rape and other crimes. Aid workers say the social well-being of tiny Lesotho is in jeopardy.

Diplomats add that the mountain kingdom's long-term political stability could be affected, too, unless the miners' plight is addressed.

Still, the one-time and would-be miners come to stand in the chilled morning air outside Maseru's mines recruiting office, hopeful that things will some day change for the better.

On this morning, recruiter David Ntlhakana does have a rare job for an inexperienced miner. But for 22-year-old Sello Ramarake, he explains, the circumstances must make it a bittersweet moment.

“This one, he has got special employment for Saint Helena (mine). His father died while he was working at Saint Helena. Now he is going to replace his father. The mine has offered him a job. He is a novice. He has never been in the mines before.”

The father died of tuberculosis, exacerbated by his work underground -- just another hazard of mine work. Still young, Sello Ramarake does not hesitate. He trots off quickly to begin the processing of his employment papers. Wthin 48 hours he will be on his way to South Africa, continuing a Lesotho family tradition that seems anything but bright.

A Spiral Landing into the Hell of Malange

In November 1998, I was back in Angola, where the breakdown of the country's peace process had, at the time, been accompanied by a rise in military activity, including new attacks blamed on the UNITA rebel movement. Some of the most violent incidents had taken place in Malange province, located some 400 kilometers east of the capital, Luanda. I went there.

As the pilot throws open the door and the passengers pile out of the twin-engine, 10-seater, many stumble about awkwardly for a few moments, trying to regain their balance. That's because instead of a normal long, slow, gentle glide to the ground, the aircraft has just made an unnerving combat landing, spiraling straight down to the runway at high speed from high altitude.

Belida: “Why do you do that?”

Pilot: “Procedures, because the area's been hot (under attack). You spiral down and land as soon as possible...I know it's uncomfortable for some people. but...”

Welcome to Malange city -- a government-held outpost in the middle of a vast expanse of lush, green vegetation where the UNITA rebels are said to roam and attack at will, apparently with the aim of depopulating the countryside.

The state-run "Jornal de Angola" newspaper says the rebels have just struck a village not far from here, burning several people and destroying their property.

Perhaps because things are tense, officials at the tattered airport, with its battle-scarred terminal, seem a little less than friendly. Although the flight from Luanda to Malange that carries mostly aid workers is a domestic flight, passports have to be produced and are examined closely.

One relief official shrugs off the inconvenience, saying the strict controls are for security reasons. But they also enable the local authorities to keep a close watch over who comes and goes by air -- the main means of access to Malange city.

A World Food Program convoy with armed escorts recently managed to bring in over 900 tons of critically-needed commodities overland. But the roads around Malange are still considered unsafe.

As a result, Malange city seems a dead place -- even though its estimated population of some 160-thousand has been bolstered in recent months by the arrival of another 67-thousand people driven from their homes in nearby rural areas by UNITA attacks. The few shops in town have little for sale. Few people other than relief officials, police and soldiers move about the streets. The displaced shelter in abandoned buildings. Everyone seems scared.

Jean-Luc Tonglet is the United Nations humanitarian affairs coordinator for Malange. He says the situation is getting worse.

“The general insecurity in the country has resulted in a net reduction of all business activities, so the general socio-economic situation is getting worse with repercussions on the situation (plight) of the most vulnerable people.”

Just how unsafe conditions are is evident from a hand-drawn security map used by aid workers. It shows a line marking an area around the city that is purported to be under the control of Angolan troops.

But there is one large shaded area inside the protected zone where UNITA rebels are believed to be active. Other UNITA areas sit right on the border of the government-held zone.

Ten kilometers outside the city, at a village called Cuije, farmers are at work, taking advantage of the latest rains to tend to their crops. Their village lies within sight of the front, where government troops are deployed. Beyond that, the surrounding land is believed to be contaminated with landmines, putting another limit on just how far the farmers can go.

The farmers say they feel safe where they are. But they also say they are being very cautious. That's just the way things are in Angola these days.

In Angola, Even the Dead Know No Peace

The death in October 1998 of Angolan General Arlindo Chenda Pena, a former UNITA rebel commander, triggered an ugly and very political fight over his body -- a dispute characteristic of the rivalries that plagued Angola at the time. I was drawn to the case and decided to write about it.

They say of the dead: "Rest in peace."

But in Angola, a country that itself knows no peace even after the official end of its long and bloody civil war, rest does not come easy for dead men like General Arlindo Chenda Pena.

The former UNITA rebel commander, popularly known as General Ben-Ben, died in a Pretoria hospital, apparently from complications resulting from malaria. His death triggered an exchange of recriminations over who was responsible. It has also precipitated what one South African government official described as a "tug of war" over the disposition of his body.

General Ben-Ben, a nephew of UNITA leader Jonas Savimbi, moved to the Angolan capital, Luanda, in 1995 under the terms of the country's peace agreement. He was integrated into a new, combined armed forces made up of government troops and former UNITA fighters, becoming its deputy commander.

There are grave doubts as to just how much responsibility he was really given in his new post. But when he fell ill this month, the government claimed he defied normal army procedures and sought treatment from a UNITA doctor at a private clinic. The government and its allies in a recently-formed UNITA splinter group claim that is why General Ben-Ben died.

For its part, UNITA claimed the General was poisoned because he refused to read out a declaration backed by the splinter rebel group. The declaration called on UNITA loyalists to lay down their weapons.

In any event, General Ben-Ben was airlifted to South Africa for emergency medical treatment. But the evacuation came too late. A spokeswoman for the hospital says the official cause of death was septicemia, or blood-poisoning.

It was at this point that things turned really nasty. The Angolan government claimed the General's body, saying it wanted to hold a state funeral for him in Luanda because of his senior position in the armed forces.

UNITA also claimed the body, saying the General's parents, who live in UNITA-held territory, wanted it returned there for burial.

But the fight over the body did not stop there. South African officials said General Ben-Ben's wife, who travelled to South Africa, wanted it flown to Abidjan, in the Ivory Coast, where sources say he had other family ties. She has sought a court injunction in Pretoria to gain possession of the body.

South African officials have been mortified by the ugliness of the dispute and have sought to depoliticize it. Their position is that it is a family matter and that the family should decide.

These officials agree that it has been a dispute characteristic of all that has gone wrong in Angola -- and a good example of the kind of rivalries that persist to this day, blocking the successful implementation of the country's 1994 peace agreement.

It is a country where UNITA and the government seem to be at odds over almost everything -- even a body -- and a country where the people, like the relatives of General Ben-Ben, seem to suffer as a result.

Angolan Lives Held Hostage by The Political Aspirations of the Government and UNITA: The UN Special Envoy Says Enough is Enough

The UN Special Envoy to Angola has called for the country's government and the former rebel movement UNITA to complete their long-running peace process and to complete it quickly or else he says he will quit. The unusual threat came just after I had been in the Angolan capital, Luanda, in May 1998.

Sources close to UN Special Envoy Alioune Blondin Beye say he was frustrated -- so frustrated that he has essentially put his job on the line.

After years of prodding and pushing, Mr. Beye told the Angolan government and UNITA they have less than two weeks to show him with their actions that they really are committed to completing the peace process. Otherwise, the UN Special Envoy indicated he will quit because he no longer believes Angola's rival sides have the political will to implement their 1994 peace accord.

The sudden turnabout by the usually optimistic Mr. Beye comes at a time when diplomats in Luanda acknowledge the peace process has reached an apparent stalemate. UNITA, for example, is still clinging to its last remaining strongholds in Angola's Central Highlands -- despite an earlier pledge to turn these over to central government control by the first of April. UNITA is also widely believed to still maintain troops -- despite issuing a statement declaring it has demilitarized completely.

For its part, the government side has lately been taking what UN officials describe as an increasingly hostile tone towards the former rebel movement. Monitors are reporting recurring incidents of police brutality towards UNITA supporters in areas already turned over to government control. At the same time, state-controlled news media on an almost daily basis are accusing UNITA forces of responsibility for this-or-that alleged new attack or other atrocity.

Sources close to the peace process say many of the alleged incidents are either wholly fictitious or grossly exaggerated.

Sources close to UN Envoy Beye say the climate appeared to be deteriorating rapidly and that public confidence in the peace process was eroding steadily. All in all, these sources tell me, Mr. Beye felt something drastic had to be done to get the process back on track -- and quickly.

Word from Luanda is that Mr. Beye's thinly-veiled ultimatim is being taken seriously by all sides -- the government, UNITA, and the three foreign powers involved in the peace process: Portugal, Russia, and the United States. All the parties apparently agree that something needs to be done to salvage the progress made thus far.

Mr. Beye is scheduled to leave Angola for Portugal shortly on a brief, previously-scheduled trip and is to return to Luanda. His aides clearly hope leaders of the government and UNITA will use that time to reflect seriously on the future course they want for a country already battered by more than two decades of conflict.

For their part, the Angolan people say they have no more desire for war. They just want to get on with lives that have for too long been held hostage to the political aspirations of one side or the other.

A Visit to Cabinda

For over 20 years, a sporadic insurrection by armed separatists created turmoil in Angola's Cabinda enclave, a small but oil-rich and economically important coastal territory, separated from the rest of Angola by a narrow strip of the former Zaire. I traveled to Cabinda City in May 1998 as the insurrection continued but found that fear of separatist activity had been matched by fear of the Angolan police and military.

In a small tailor shop in Cabinda City, two middle-aged seamstresses speak of their security concerns.

One says she won't travel outside the tattered town, into the lush countryside where the shadowy separatists of the Cabinda Liberation Front are known to operate. The other voices alarm over the behavior of troops stationed near her home to counter separatist attacks. She claims they steal from civilians.

Amnesty International charges government security personnel with doing far worse in the Cabinda enclave. A recent report accuses Angolan troops and police of killing and torturing unarmed civilians. It says the overall human rights situation in the enclave has deteriorated.

Angolan officials acknowledge political and military conditions in Cabinda are worrying. They recently announced plans to seek a negotiated peace settlement with the separatists.

But in an interview in which he voices concern over the situation in Cabinda, Portugal's Ambassador to Angola, Jose Duarte Ramahlo Ortigao, makes no mention of that peace effort. Of particular concern, he says, is the recent kidnapping of two Portuguese citizens working in the enclave. They are being held by suspected separatists.

Oil workers involved in massive drilling operations off the Cabinda coast also are wary of the separatists, who were blamed for a 1994 mortar attack on a large workers' compound near Cabinda City. Foreign employees are now essentially barred from travelling outside the heavily-guarded compound.

General Manager Larry Jostes explains. “We feel ourselves to be an economic target, and our people to be potential targets. we're very comfortable here inside the camp ... our ability to go out is very limited, because we just can't take the risk.”

While oil officials welcome the security provided by the Angolan military and police, aid workers -- speaking on condition of anonymity -- say they are suspicious of recent government activities. They say authorities have barred them from carrying out any assessments of humanitarian needs in Cabinda. They wonder why.

They are also suspicious of a recently-announced crackdown against illegal Congolese immigrants in the province. Aid workers believe this may be a cover-story for a crackdown against Cabinda's large proportion of separatist sympathizers -- a figure some estimate to be as high as 80 to 90 percent of the province's population of about 175-thousand people.

Angola: Squandering Its Riches

With its huge oil reserves, lucrative diamond fields and other rich natural resources, Angola is widely regarded as one African country with enormous economic potential. But after decades of civil war and structural decay, Angola is also viewed as a country with enormous and pressing social needs. From Luanda in May 1998, I reported there was concern that Angola's new wealth was not being put to use wisely --- a concern that I am told has still not been put to rest even though the civil war is long over.

Drive through the dusty, bustling streets of Luanda and you will see government officials chauffeured about in expensive new cars entering modern new shops offering luxury goods.

You also will see sharply contrasting signs of poverty and decay -- one-legged beggars harassing visitors outside hotels for a hand-out; sewage bubbling out of cracks in the crumbling sidewalks and pot-holed streets.

The decay is largely the result of Angola's long and bitter history of civil war and colonial abandonment.

The wealth is largely the result of renewed exploitation of the country's incredible treasure trove of natural resources -- ranging from diamonds to oil.

What is troubling to many foreign officials is that the financial rewards stemming from the country's resources are not making their way down from the government elite to average Angolans -- especially those in rural areas.

Diplomats and business sources say it is no secret that senior officials are siphoning off some of the vast profits. In addition, substantial sums of revenue are spent on the military and items that do not appear in the country's official budget. Another large portion of Angola's income goes to pay off its huge foreign debt.

After the corruption, the security expenses and the debt repayments, not much is left over for social rehabilitation projects. And there appears to be growing popular discontent over these disparities.

A 34-year-old mother of two who owns a small grocery store in a Luanda residential area complains that life has become increasingly difficult. She says she struggles to stock basic commodities such as cooking oil to meet the needs of her customers. As for the luxury shops selling perfume, fancy clothes and the like, she says those are just for what she describes as the higher-ups in the government.

International financial organizations lay part of the blame for what some critics see as the current squandering of Angola's wealth to a lack of expertise in such areas as planning and investment management. But they also say the government needs to put in place a more rigorous system of financial controls.

Philip Owusu is the World Bank's representative in Angola. He outlines the argument he makes to government officials.

“There are imbalances in the economy of Angola. We want to work with you to put together a system that is much more rational. We want to help you develop a system that enables you to trace revenues from all sources, we want to work with you on putting together a system that allocates investment resources in a more rational manner, we want to work with you on a system which helps you to monitor these investments.”

The World Bank and the International Monetary Fund are now looking specifically for an audit of the country's oil accounts. Mr. Owusu says the government has acknowledged the need for such a check.

But he says discussions are continuing on when it will take actually place.

In the meantime, Angola's oil revenues are likely to soar despite an easing in international prices. New offshore discoveries are estimated in the billions of barrels. Some oil experts believe within the next decade Angola will outstrip Nigeria as Africa's largest oil exporter.

Angola: Waiting for Savimbi

I went to Luanda again in May 1998, where senior officials of the former rebel movement UNITA were soon expected to move into a new headquarters building in the Angolan capital. But UNITA leader Jonas Savimbi was not expected to be on hand for the formal building takeover ceremonies. As I reported, Mr. Savimbi's major concern was his personal security.

UNITA's senior representative to the Joint Commission overseeing implementation of Angola's 1994 peace agreement acknowledges UNITA has national political ambitions. These are ambitions which the UNITA official, Isaias Samakuva, says cannot be guided indefinitely from the opposition party's current headquarters in the country's Central Highlands.

But Mr. Samakuva says the safety of UNITA leader Jonas Savimbi still cannot be guaranteed in the capital even though the peace process is near an end. In an interview, he says a key reason is that the government of President Jose Eduardo Dos Santos has done little to disarm the civilian population of Luanda, especially militias armed over the years by the ruling MPLA party.

“It is a concern for us because if we are talking about peace, then we don't need to have those arms with civilians. If they are still with civilians, it means that someone has other intentions or a second agenda.”

Mr. Samakuva says UNITA has good reason to be suspicious about the government's agenda. He pulls out a freshly-compiled list of alleged murders, arrests and other mistreatment of UNITA leaders, members, and supporters around the country. It contends that during the past six months, 63 have been killed and 118 jailed or mistreated by government security authorities.

The UNITA representative complains that what he calls this targetting of UNITA personnel has been accompanied by what he characterizes a concerted government effort to demonize UNITA through state-controlled news media -- blaming UNITA for insecurity around the country. He says some of the incidents cited by the government did in fact occur but involved bandits, not UNITA members. He charges other incidents simply never occurred.

Still others, he claims, were carried out by the government but attributed to UNITA, including a recent incident at Ngove, near the central city of Huambo. As many as 400 men were involved in looting the town and robbing the UN offices there. UNITA was blamed but Mr. Samakuva claims the government carried out the attack.

Despite repeated requests, government officials were not available for comment on UNITA’s charges. But foreign monitors close to the Angolan peace process say they too believe there is a conscious government effort under way to eliminate UNITA as a force both politically and militarily.

Angola: The Peace Process Faces More Delays

Meanwhile, back in Angola, the peace process was still stumbling. In mid-March, the UN Special Envoy to Angola was travelling to the Central Highlands stronghold of UNITA rebel movement leader Jonas Savimbi for talks about the delays. I reached the spokesman for envoy Alioune Blondin Beye, who had just met in Luanda with Angolan President Jose Eduardo Dos Santos.

A UN spokesman says Mr. Beye's general message is that the United Nations and other international mediators involved in the Angolan peace process cannot go on indefinitely approving new timetables for completing the country's 1994 peace agreement -- timetables that, in the end, are not implemented.

The Angolan government and UNITA adopted a timetable in January that was to be the final one. But it collapsed. A new final timetable was approved earlier this month. But it, too, appears to be in jeopardy following UNITA’s rejection of its legalization as a political organization -- a move which it complained was not accompanied by the promised simultaneous legalization of the special status of UNITA leader Savimbi as the leader of Angola's largest opposition group.

At the same time, the prospects for Mr. Savimbi's planned move to Luanda, set for the end of the month in the new timetable, appear to be fading amid UNITA's continued complaints about the allegedly high number of weapons still in the hands of civilians in the capital. The UNITA leader has remained reluctant to move to the city because of concern for his personal safety, and the two sides have still to resolve questions about the number of bodyguards he is allowed to have.

UN spokesman Moctar Gueye says that despite such hurdles, he remains optimistic.

"Everything is possible," he says in a telephone interview from Luanda, including Mr. Savimbi meeting the end-of-month deadline for moving to the capital.

Still, there are persistent concerns about the future of the peace process. In his latest report to the Security Council, UN Secretary General Kofi Annan mentions several.

He criticizes the Angolan national police for limiting implementation of the government's long-awaited civilian disarmament campaign to areas controlled by UNITA. He says the operations often have been conducted with excessive use of force.

On the other hand, Mr. Annan takes UNITA to task for what he describes as politically-motivated armed attacks and the disappearance of more than 27-thousand of its troops from special quartering sites where they were to be demobilized. He also criticizes UNITA for what he terms its tactics of persistent delays and last-minute conditions for implementing the 1994 peace agreement.

Mr. Annan says the presence of a significant UN peacekeeping contingent in Angola remains essential because of what he calls the current climate of mistrust between the government and UNITA.

South Africa Moves Against Illegal Flights with UNITA Supplies

In early 1998, South African authorities disclosed they were investigating reports that aircraft operating from South African airfields were ferrying military supplies to Angola's UNITA rebel movement in defiance of UN sanctions. I had this report from Johannesburg.

South Africa's Police Service says it is investigating the unauthorized use of South African airfields by foreign-registered aircraft to fly military and other supplies to UNITA in Angola.

In a statement, the police service gives few details. But it says authorities recently learned that a number of what were described only as Russian aircraft were operating from the northern town of Pietersburg.

It says police last week visited an aviation company in Pietersburg to review aircraft documentation. The statement says police found about 200 violations of the civil aviation act and grounded three aircraft as not airworthy.

The statement says no evidence was found that arms were being flown to Angola.

However it says police are investigating information suggesting that other military equipment, including vehicles, clothing and food, have been shipped to UNITA forces.

Authorities stress they are taking the matter very seriously. The statement says a senior police official travelled to Angola last month for talks on the problem following an Angolan government complaint about the unauthorized flights.

The United Nations Security Council last year imposed flight and travel sanctions against UNITA in a bid to force its compliance with Angola's 1994 peace agreement.

Zambia Beefs Up Its Troop Presence Along the Angolan Border

In March 1998, Zambian President Frederick Chiluba disputed Angolan government charges that his country was being used as a transit route for shipping arms and other supplies to the UNITA rebel movement. He said Zambian authorities had neither the capacity nor the resources to supply arms to UNITA. He conceded some private businessmen in Zambia might be involved in weapons smuggling to the Angolan rebel group. But he said his government had put in place measures to control any such illegal activities. Within days, it was disclosed that Zambia had dispatched additional troops to its northwestern border area with Angola.

A frontpage report in Zambia's independent "Post" newspaper reports more than 500 Zambian soldiers were sent to the Angolan border area to reinforce troops already deployed there.

There was no official announcement of the move and Zambian government authorities were not immediately reachable for comment.

However, relief agency officials active in the northwestern border region, speaking on condition of anonymity, confirmed the movement.

The dispatch of additional troops to the frontier area follows charges by the Angolan government that the UNITA rebel movement has used Zambian territory as a base both for staging attacks and for receiving weapons and other supplies. Angola's ambassador in Lusaka recently warned of possible military retaliation if Zambian authorities did not halt such activities.

Angola has also expressed concern about arms and other shipments to UNITA from South Africa. South African Foreign Minister Alfred Nzo travelled to Luanda for talks on the subject.

The United Nations has imposed both arms and travel sanctions against UNITA in a bid to force its compliance with terms of the 1994 peace agreement that ended Angola's long and bloody civil war.

In January, angolan air force planes intercepted and forced down a South African cargo aircraft carrying supplies to UNITA in violation of the sanctions.

Meanwhile, Angolan officials have expressed dismay at UNITA's rejection of the government's legalization of the group last week. UNITA complained the move was not accompanied by the legalization of rebel movement leader Jonas Savimbi's special status as leader of Angola's largest opposition movement.

No UNITA Abuse of Zambian Refugee Camps, According to UN Officials

The Zambian office of the UN High Commissioner for Refugees said in March 0f 1998 that it was confident Angolan government charges that the UNITA rebel movement was misusing refugee camps on Zambian territory were untrue.

The deputy UN refugee representative in Lusaka says his office is "almost certain" the allegations made by Angola's ambassador to Zambia are untrue.

But Martin Bucumi tells me in a telephone interview that a full investigation of the charges is now under way. He says the formal results of that study will probably not be know for several days.

Angolan ambassador to Zambia, Manuel Augusto, claimed last week that the UNITA rebel movement was using two United Nations-supervised refugee camps in northwestern Zambia as bases.

The larger of the two camps is known as "Maheba." It contains some 28-thousand refugees, most of them Angolan. The other, called "Mayukwayukwa," has just some 36-hundred refugees, again, mostly Angolan.

Aid workers familiar with Maheba describe it as a large settlement covering some 700 square kilometers, where families maintain their own farm plots. They say there is a lot of movement in and out of the unfenced facility, which they concede makes it difficult to monitor all activities there. However they say most of the camp's inhabitants have been there for years and there have been no more than a handful of new arrivals in recent months. In addition, they say the Zambian government screens all new arrivals for security purposes.

UNITA is understood to have a political presence in the camps. But aid workers say they have never witnessed any organized military or other unacceptable activities. They also say they have never uncovered instances where refugees were pressured to return to Angola -- a charge made by the Angolan ambassador, who claimed these refugees were then replaced by UNITA soldiers.

The Angolan envoy also charged last week that UNITA was using Zambian territory to receive weapons and other supplies. He warned Zambian authorities they could face military reprisals if the rebel activities were not halted.

Zambia has denied offering any official support to UNITA and has vowed to halt any support activities it uncovers.

Angola Warns Zambia As Its Patience Runs Out

With tensions rising in Angola over the UNITA rebel movement's failure to meet deadlines in the country's peace process, there were in March 1998 also growing signs of Angolan impatience with Zambia over continued secret use of its territory by UNITA to obtain arms and other supplies.

Zambian authorities were thrown on the defensive after Angola's ambassador warned that his government might resort to military action to cut off UNITA's supply routes through Zambian territory.

Zambian Vice President Christon Tembo, quoted in the state-run "Times" newspaper, tried to play down the threat of any kind of armed confrontation. He said that at the latest meeting of the Southern African Development Community, Angolan officials said their country had no intention of any military aggression against Zambia.

For his part, Information Minister David Mpamba, quoted in Zambia's other state-controlled newspaper, the "Daily Mail," said relations between Zambia and Angola were good and warm. He said Zambian authorities therefore wanted to take time before responding fully to the Angolan envoy's charges and not react with emotions.

The Angolan Ambassador, Manuel Augusto, described the situation on the border between the two countries as serious and said his government was very concerned. He did not accuse the Zambian government of itself supporting UNITA.

But the envoy was quoted as telling reporters Zambian territory was being used by UNITA and its supporters for transporting arms and other supplies. He also claimed UNITA soldiers were making use of refugee camps in Zambia.

Mr. Augusto was quoted as calling for quick Zambian action to cut off UNITA's supply routes -- otherwise, he said, his government might have to take military action as it did last year when Angolan troops intervened in both Congo-Brazzaville and Congo-Kinshasa -- two other countries that had been used by UNITA as transit points for arms and other equipment.

Zambia has repeatedly denied supporting UNITA or allowing the rebel movement to use its territory for supplies. Authorities in Lusaka noted last year they had taken action against a South African cargo firm suspected of flying supplies to UNITA from Zambia.

But Zambia's concern over possible Angolan reprisals was evident when some Zambian officials expressed fears late last year that Angola might have had a hand in an abortive coup against the government of President Frederick Chiluba. Angola denied the accusation.

The charges of a Zambian link with UNITA have been embarrassing to the Chiluba government. It was in the Zambian capital, Lusaka, that the 1994 peace accords ending Angola's long and bloody civil war were signed.

UNITA’s Zambian Connection

Angola's former rebel group UNITA lost its main supply route for weapons and other equipment in 1997 when governments were overthrown in Zaire and Congo-Brazzaville. But as I discovered and reported in early 1998, UNITA subsequently forged new transit routes -- one of the most important of which appeared to be in western Zambia.

Southern African security sources say the former rebel movement UNITA has made what they characterize as a considerable effort to develop an airfield outside Zambezi town in western Zambia as its main supply base.

These sources, who closely monitor military activities in the region, say the facility was originally developed during Angola's civil war to funnel western support to UNITA. They say the improvements made by UNITA during the past several months include the installation of underground fuel storage tanks and night landing lights. They say the runway is paved, and, at about three-thousand meters in length, it is capable of handling large cargo planes.

Aviation sources tell me they understand the privately-owned, four-engine South African cargo plane that was forced down in Angola on the 20th of january (1998) landed at UNITA's Zambezi facility to refuel before setting off on the flight on which it was intercepted by Angolan jet fighters.

The eight people on board have been taken into custody for violating UN travel sanctions against UNITA. Angolan authorities say the plane was heading for Bailundo, UNITA's current headquarters. Officials say the aircraft was carrying diamond mining equipment and other cargo.

Overland travel in the area around Zambezi is currently restricted by heavy rains, which Zambian residents say have made roads there impassable. Zambian newspapers this week reported heavy flooding close to Zambezi.

However, independent researchers who attempted to travel by road to Zambezi town during the last dry season to examine UNITA's activities were also unsuccessful.

One analyst probing illegal arms transfers in Africa tells me he was stopped in western Zambia well before reaching the town late last year by armed and uniformed UNITA troops.

The Zambian government repeatedly has denied supporting UNITA.

Last week, officials in Lusaka criticized an earlier report dealing with UNITA's military strength that mentioned the existence of facilities controlled by the former rebel movement in western Zambia. Zambia's foreign minister charged that what he called such "baseless allegations" were being made by people intent on destroying relations between Angola and Zambia.

Analysts acknowledge it is not official Zambian policy to allow support for UNITA to pass through Zambian territory. Zambia halted the operations of one private air cargo company suspected of running supply flights to UNITA in defiance of United Nations sanctions.

But security sources charge that in the area along the Angolan border, Zambian authorities appear to have little effective control. The accusations have proven embarassing to Zambia because it was in the Zambian capital, Lusaka, that the 1994 peace accord ending the Angolan civil war was signed.

Last week the Associated Press news service, quoting an Angolan newspaper, reported the Angolan army was training new commando units to strike at bases in neighboring countries where UNITA is suspected of operating. The AP report said the Ministry of Defense in Luanda confirmed the creation of the special units but declined comment on their possible missions.

Security sources say UNITA is continuing to bolster its arsenals despite its declaration last December that it had handed over all its weapons to the United Nations. These sources say UNITA has been buying small arms and ammunition as well anti-tank weapons and recently obtained more than one-dozen anti-aircraft guns. Angolan government authorities meanwhile continue to report the discovery of UNITA arms caches at various locations around the country.

Angola and Peace: A Contradiction?

The preceding entries about the civil war in Congo-Brazzaville, including Angola’s intervention, came chronologically in my recollection of events in Angola itself. And 1997 was a landmark year in Angola’s long and winding peace process. But that process also suffered serious setbacks 10 years ago, as I noted in this year-end report:

Perhaps more notable for its multiple postponements than the actual event, the installation of Angola's long-awaited government of unity and national reconciliation finally took place in April 1997.

The new government was made up mainly of members of the former administration led by President Jose Eduardo Dos Santos. But for the first time, it also included representatives of the former rebel group, UNITA, a Portuguese acronym for the National Union for the Total Independence of Angola.

UN officials and diplomats were buoyed by the formation of the new government.

But they were disappointed if they thought it would be the final step in Angola's long peace process.

UNITA leader Jonas Savimbi refused an offer to become vice-president, instead settling on being recognized as the country's official opposition leader. Yet he refused to travel to the capital, Luanda, because of continued fears his life would be in jeopardy.

Mr. Savimbi and other UNITA leaders remained in Angola's central highlands, where they were accused of continuing to obstruct the peace process. Specifically, they were accused of failing to disarm and demilitarize UNITA completely as required under the country's 1994 peace accord. They were also accused of stalling on the turnover of UNITA-held territory to central government control.

After pleading and prodding, the UN Security Council would take no more. In October, it voted to impose new sanctions against the former rebel group -- barring its leaders from travelling abroad and closing all UNITA offices outside of Angola. UNITA complained bitterly, but ultimately vowed not to break off the peace process, but there was little further movement forward.

At year's end, UN Secretary General Kofi Annan issued a depressing report to the Security Council. He said it was, in his words -- disquieting that three years after the signing of the peace agreement that ended Angola's long and bloody civil war, key provisions remain unfulfilled.

He described UNITA’s level of cooperation as -- intermittent surges -- followed by what he called -- long periods of stagnation.

Analysts linked UNITA’s reluctance to commit itself whole-heartedly to the peace process to its growing sense of isolation and its fears of possible attack by government troops. Longtime ally Mobutu Sese Seko of Zaire was overthrown, cutting off one of the rebels' key supply routes. Later in the year, Angolan troops intervened in neighboring Congo-Brazzaville to help unseat President Pascal Lissouba, who had also supported UNITA.

There were even suggestions Angola was behind an abortive military coup in Zambia, another neighboring country harboring reported UNITA supply lines. But the government in Luanda dismissed those charges as absolutely false.

Note: We will explore in greater detail this Zambian connection in our next series of reports.

Kabila Agrees: Let the UN Investigators Come

Congolese leader Laurent Kabila agreed in October 1997 to let UN investigators begin their long-delayed probe of alleged massacres of Rwandan refugees in the former Zaire. Diplomats at the time said they hoped the accord would remove a major obstacle to improved relations between Kinshasa and the international community.

US Ambassador to the United Nations Bill Richardson brokered the agreement that will allow the controversial probe of alleged mass killings and other human rights abuses to go ahead.

But he acknowledged at a Kinshasa news conference that much remains to be done before the accord can be truly labelled a breakthrough.

“Implementation is now critically important. Needless to say, I am cautiously optimistic that this inquiry is going to take place.”

Frustrated members of the UN team have been waiting in Kinshasa since August to begin their probe -- despite previous agreements that would supposedly let them start. The delay has led some international human rights groups to charge the Kabila government is stalling in order to clear away critical evidence.

But diplomatic sources close to the negotiations, speaking to me on condition of anonymity, say Congolese authorities have much to gain by letting the UN team get on with its work. They say the accord clears away a major obstacle holding up the kind of massive economic assistance the former Zaire needs to begin its reconstruction after more than three decades of decay, corruption and civil war.

Mr. Kabila has been quick to reject the notion that he accepts any linkage between the investigation and future foreign aid. Defending his country's sovereignty, he also denied at a joint news conference with US envoy Richardson that the nation he has renamed the Democratic Republic of Congo should be seen as some sort of UN protectorate.

But diplomatic sources believe that Mr. Kabila knows full well that while some private investors are willing to sink money into new efforts to extract his country's rich natural resources, substantial revenues will not start flowing into the government's coffers from such ventures for some time.

These diplomats say Mr. Kabila needs the kind of quick assistance and debt relief only international financial institutions and the donor community can offer.

African sources say the Congolese leader was given some bad advice by key aides earlier this year when they urged him to resist the UN probe. These sources say it was an issue that was not going to simply go away and would continue to cloud his government's ties abroad. They believe Mr. Kabila now understands that while he may have to weather some criticism as a result of the investigation, it is far more important for him Politically, and for his country economically, to lay the matter to rest once and for all.

Note: The Special Investigative Team of the UN Secretary General eventually issued a report in 1998 which found there had been massacres, other atrocities and violations of international humanitarian law committed in Zaire/Democratic Republic of the Congo and especially its eastern provinces, including crimes against humanity. The Security Council deplored the delay in the administration of justice and called on the Governments of the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Rwanda to investigate immediately the allegations contained in the report of the Secretary-General's investigative team. It called on the Governments to bring to justice anyone found to have been involved in those crimes. The Security Council statement can be read in full at: http://www.un.org/News/Press/docs/1998/19980713.sc6545.html

Kinshasa: Here Come the Gun-Toting Kidogo, Watch Out!

My trip to Brazzaville and Kinshasa in October 1997 coincided not only with the turmoil in the Republic of Congo, but also instability in the Democratic Republic of Congo, the former Zaire. While I was there, US special envoy (and current Democratic Presidential candidate) Bill Richardson was expected in Kinshasa to press Congolese authorities into allowing UN human rights investigators to probe alleged massacres in the east of the country by troops of the rebel alliance that toppled former President Mobutu Sese Seko. Local human rights activists welcomed Mr. Richardson's scheduled visit. But they said there were other aspects of the troops' day-to-day behavior that also deserved attention.

Residents of Kinshasa call them the "kidogo" -- a Swahili word meaning the "little ones." Many of them are child soldiers, most from the eastern portion of the country formerly known as Zaire. They were the backbone of the rebel army that pushed Mobutu Sese Seko into exile and swept Laurent Kabila into power.

Now they patrol the streets of Kinshasa and guard such strategic locations as government ministries and diplomatic missions, as well as hotels and other major businesses.

Some people contend they have made the city a safer place than ever before. One man says, "you can walk about with money and goods -- even late at night -- and you don't worry about getting robbed -- not like before under Mobutu."

But Pascal Kambale Kalume, vice president of the Kinshasa-based human rights group "Azadho," paints a different picture of the soldiers' activities.

“Killing, stealing money from civilians, (breaking) in houses at night -- all of these now they do.”

Mr. Kalume contends the new national army's behavior is not much better than that of Mr. Mobutu's poorly disciplined troops.

“We have experienced under the Mobutu regime that the "ex-FAZ," the former national army, were responsible for maybe 60 or 70 percent of gross human rights violations in the country. We hoped with the new army, the so-called liberation army, would put an end to this kind of bad behavior. But according to reports we are receiving right now, the reality is far from what we hoped.”

Those who run afoul of the "kidogo" have found their reaction is likely to be swift, unforgiving and, possibly, quite brutal.

One foreign aid worker says he was taking what he characterizes as tourist-style photos in the streets of Kinshasa one day when the little ones objected. They seized his camera, bashing him in the head with it as they wrenched it from around his neck. The aid worker was detained and questioned for several hours before he was finally released -- minus his camera.

Another man, a Congolese language teacher, tells of being stopped in his car by soldiers who jammed the muzzles of their gun in his face and demanded he turn the vehicle over to them. He says he persuaded the "kidogo" to simply let him take them where they wanted to go.

But he and other residents of Kinshasa contend there have been cases where people have been intimidated into giving up their vehicles. They never get them back.

One man says, "sometimes it seems as if they are still fighting the war." He complains the "kidogo" are uneducated, unsophisticated and out of place in Kinshasa.

Because most of them only speak Swahili, the mainly French or "Lingala" speaking residents of the capital say most people can't even talk to them -- never mind reason with them.

Authorities in the Kabila government say cases of undisciplined behavior by soldiers are taken seriously and the offenders are punished. But many Congolese say they are not sure whether the soldiers really suffer any consequences.

Another man says, "there is a big gap between what the new government says and what it actually does."

Other than human rights activist Kalume, no one interviewed for this report would allow themselves to be identified by name for fear of possible repercussions.

Mr. Kalume and others say freedom of expression appears to be a problem under the country's new leadership. They contend there are cases of people being barred from speaking with journalists and of journalists being prevented from reporting on certain subjects. They note the editor of one publication that has been critical of the Kabila government was arrested two months ago and still remains in prison.

Interview with a Dead Man

After five months of bloody civil war, relative peace returned to Congo-Brazzaville in October 1997. Covering the last days of the fighting, I saw something in the streets of the devastated capital that moved me to reflect on the conflict and human suffering I had witnessed across Africa. This is the piece that is permanently posted on this blog in the lefthand column. It is essentially an explanation of why I and other reporters do what we do.

I am standing in a rubble-strewn Brazzaville street as the city returns cautiously to life after a bloody civil war. Armed men are all around me, most of them looting, occasionally firing off bursts of bullets in celebration.

But I am not concentrating on this anymore. Instead, with the hand holding my microphone limp by my side, my tape running senselessly, I am looking at another corpse -- this one of a man, perhaps in his 20's, his legs charred.

I know there will be no voice to record. But his lips are apart, his arms outstretched, fingers together, as if in prayer. It seems another one of Africa's dead is trying to speak to me. And I feel I owe him this one last consideration.

I think maybe he wants to share his anguish, his despair, his pain. Or maybe a last word to a parent or a wife or a child. I feel badly -- because I do not know for sure.

I do know though that I have seen corpses like this before -- victims of war, or of genocide, or of famine, or of sickness.

A symbolic path of the dead now runs through my mind -- a personal collection reflecting the real path their corpses have left across much of Africa: from arid Somalia in the northeast, across Sudan and into northern Uganda, down through steamy Rwanda, Burundi and Congo in the center of the continent.

Some have been young men in uniform, their bodies shattered by a bullet or a shell.

Some have been old men, thin beyond belief, weakened by hunger or disease.

Some have been women, their dresses in tatters, their faces etched with silent agony.

Some have been children, too young to die, their skulls cleaved in half.

Some I have met in battle-scarred streets, some in burned-out buildings. Some I have seen sprawled amidst flowers in an open field, some floating, limbs bound, in muddy water. Some I have found in groups thrown into a dirt pit, some alone in the aisles of a gutted church.

I have, at times, had imaginary conversations with these dead of mine -- their unrecorded voices playing on endlessly inside my head, sometimes loud, sometimes just a whisper.

I tell them I am sorry and if it were in my power, I would restore them to life. But I can't. It's not in my power. Perhaps the only help I can give is to try to tell their story.

A New Era of Instability and Violence in Africa?

In 1997, what was then Africa's latest military takeover had fueled fears among some diplomats that a new era of instability and violence might be spreading on the continent. From Kinshasa, I reported on diplomatic reaction to the toppling of President Pascal Lissouba in Congo-Brazzaville.

A look of despair passed across the African diplomat's face as he stared across the Congo river into Brazzaville, where the faint staccato sounds of automatic weapons fire could still be heard.

He said, “I fear for democracy on this continent,” his displeasure evident at the toppling of an elected president, Pascal Lissouba, by the man he defeated at the polls five-years ago, former Marxist dictator Denis Sassou-Nguesso.

This diplomat and several others in Kinshasa view Africa's latest military takeover as another bad omen. They are particularly incensed by the intervention of a neighboring country -- in this case, Angola -- apparently to help install a government more amenable to its own interests.

Military experts say Angolan tanks and troops made a critical difference when they entered the fighting on behalf of General Sassou's Cobra militia.

The international community has publicly condemned Angola's involvement. But analysts suggest the international community also seems to have acquiesced in the bloody change of leadership in Brazzaville -- another bad precedent, some diplomats say.

These diplomats note General Sassou's takeover followed foreign-assisted rebel military victories in Rwanda and the former Zaire, as well as the military ouster of a civilian leader in Burundi and a military coup in Sierre Leone. They said they fear this means a new cycle of African violence is now in full swing. They ask, where will it stop? And they are concerned ambitious military figures in other unstable countries may feel tempted to launch their own violent bids for power.

But there are others who appear less concerned. One North American diplomat concedes central Africa has been in turmoil in recent years. But he challenges the theory of a new era of violent change in the region by asking, is there another domino that will topple after Congo Brazzaville? He says, I do not see one, not really.

This diplomat deplores the violence that has taken place and hopes General Sassou will arrange early elections.

But that seems to be a distant prospect at best.

Analysts note this latest African civil war started in June (1997) because of an impending election. Mr. Lissouba's forces attempted to disarm General Sassou's Cobras in advance of a presidential vote both men were to contest. Mr. Lissouba said his aim was to curb violence during the campaign. General Sassou claimed his rival simply wanted to provoke violence so he would have a reason to cancel the election.

Brazzaville Refugees: Some Come Home, More Flee

The civil war in Congo-Brazzaville and the intense fighting that devastated the country's capital sent thousands of refugees across the Congo river to Kinshasa. In mid-October 1997, some were returning home, but even more were still fleeing.

The Cobra militiamen escorting journalists across the Congo river shout mockingly at a small boatload of refugees returning to Brazzaville from Kinshasa.

"Why did you leave?" they ask, as if the bloody street battles and aerial bombardments that reduced sections of the capital to piles of rubble were a mere fleeting inconvenience.

While some refugees are risking a return to begin piecing together lives disrupted by five months of civil war, most prefer to remain in the safety of the Kinshasa area. UN officials say there are some 36-thousand registered Congolese refugees in the capital of the former Zaire: just under 12-thousand at a tent camp near the international airport and the rest with friends and relatives in town.

They believe even more Brazzaville residents may be living in and around Kinshasa, unassisted by international relief agencies, having bypassed normal refugee registration procedures.

At the Kinkole tent camp, opened in June (1997) some 45 kilometers from the center of Kinshasa, the refugees listen to music as they wait for news about conditions across the Congo river. They say they want to go home, but feel the political situation remains unstable and uncertain. Relief workers say only a few are leaving to go back, while even more are still arriving -- up to 50 people a day.

This man is among the latest arrivals. He refuses to give his name, but acknowledges he worked for the government of ousted President Pascal Lissouba in the Planning Ministry.

He says he feared for his life and accused the Cobra militia of General Denis Sassou-Nguesso of carrying out revenge killings.

UN spokesman Peter Kessler says refugee agency officials were travelling to Brazzaville to assess such claims as well as the overall humanitarian situation.

“We'd like the refugees to go back once they feel safe enough to do so. We're going to be going across the river ourselves this week to evaluate the possibilities of return and what will be needed by the returnees to help them get their feet back on the ground.”

Mr. Kessler says the United Nations would like to help people go back -- but only when they are ready.

Brazzaville: These Ninjas Run and Hide

Besides ousted President Pascal Lissouba, the other major political loser in Congo's civil war appears to be Prime Minister Bernard Kolelas, who has fled to neighboring Kinshasa. I visited Mr. Kolelas' home in October 1997 as well as the compound of his “Ninja" militias in Brazzaville's Bacongo district.

The sign over the entryway says "Infirmary".

But this faded stucco building in the compound of ousted Congolese Prime Minister Bernard Kolelas and his Ninja militia is packed with unused arms and ammunition, including anti-tank missiles and recoilless rifle shells. Not a single bandage or bottle of medicine can be seen.

Another nearby building in the compound holds crates of mortar shells, hand grenades and bullets. A mobile multiple rocket launcher stands undamaged just outside this arsenal, two discarded rifles lying in the mud by its wheels. There are no scorch marks or other signs to indicate it was ever fired.

Commanders of the Cobra militia who now control Brazzaville say Mr. Kolelas' forces simply abandoned the weaponry and fled when they first came under attack late in Congo's five-month civil war.

Mr. Kolelas and the Ninjas stayed neutral for most of the war, but threw in with ousted President Pascal Lissouba in September (1997).

The Cobras, loyal to General Denis Sassou-Nguesso, the country's apparent new leader, say there was little serious fighting with the Ninjas, though the stench of death still lingers in the Kolelas compound -- evidence people died there.

Mr. Kolelas, formerly Mayor of Brazzaville, is now in exile in Kinshasa, across the Congo river. Aides say his Ninja militia forces are still largely intact, but concede they have withdrawn from the Congolese capital. The aides say they are waiting for guidance on whether to begin launching guerrilla-style attacks on the rival Cobras and their Angolan military allies, some of whom remain in Brazzaville.

Mr. Kolelas' aides claim their fighters pulled out of Brazzaville because of what they call the psychological shock of the original Angolan-backed attacks on their positions in the capital.

They say the Ninjas were not trained soldiers: what could you expect, they ask?

Cobra commanders indicate they are not seriously concerned by the threat of possible attack by the Ninjas. They point to the Ninjas' initial hasty retreat under fire, as well as to the arms the Ninjas left behind -- arms that might well be used against them in renewed fighting.