The limits of French intervention in Africa: a study in applied neo-colonialism

Boston University OpenBU http://open.bu.edu African Studies Center ASC Working Papers in African Studies Series 1982 The limits of French intervention in Africa: a study in applied neo-colonialism https://hdl.handle.net/2144/40597 Boston University THE LIMITS OF FRENCH INTERVENTION IN AFRICA: A STUDY IN APPLIED NEO-COLONIALISM By Edouard Bustin W.P. No. 54 African Studies Center 1982 WORKING PAPERS N0.54 AFRICAN STUDIES CENTER Boston University 125 Bay State Road Boston, MA 02215 THE LIMITS OF FRENCH INTERVENTION IN AFRICA: A STUDY IN APPLIED NEO-COLONIALISM by Edouard Bustin Introduction The scope of this paper is both wider and narrower than might be suggested by its title. It does not propose to offer a full analysis of French neocolonialism, but neither will it be limited to a mere inventory of overt French military actions of the type recently performed in Chad, Shaba or the Central African Republic. Part of the ambiguity that the title of the paper may occasion lies in the use of the term "intervention," which will be used to designate a wide-ranging sequence of policy actions leading, whether deliberately or not, to the crystallization of France's current posture in Africa.* In its broadest sense, "intervention" can, and probably should, include every form of concerted action (whether direct or indirect, overt or covert) by one international actor on another for the purpose of altering, in a manner favorable to the intervenor, the normal processes of operation in the targeted society. In this perspective, it would be legitimate to claim that intervention, or intrusion, by France or by other external powers in the affairs of Africa begins almost from the moment when they first established contact with African societies. The setting up of the slave trade itself was not intrinsically perceived as interventionist, inasmuch as slaves were at that time regarded by both sides as a legitimate trade commodity, but the supply of firearms to native intermediaries who were expected to use their newlyacquired technological superiority to pillage the hinterland in the forcible procurement of slaves, or the exploitation of rivalries between indigenous trading states were all forms of "intervention." Similarly, the imposition of direct colonial rule and the attendant (and forcible) introduction of new modes of production in African societies were clearly interventionist, as was the later development of a colonial apparatus, with its mobilizational and surplus-extracting effects. * This essay was completed in March 1981, shortly before the election of President Mitterand and of the present Socialist administration in France. Though unintentional, this coincidence is nevertheless fortunate since these developments may be viewed as signaling the end of the Gaullist and postGaullist eras. This is not meant to suggest that France's African policies are now likely to be dramatically reversed, but early indications show that the new administration's approaches and priorities may be significantly different from those of its prodecessors. 2 The purpose of the preamble is to remind the reader that there is, in fact, no hiatus, no solution of logical continuity in the history of Western (and thus French) expansion in the rest of the world, including Africa. From the slave trade to 11 classic 11 colonialism and to the present state of relations between the industrialized world and Africa (referred to as "nee-colonialism" for the sake of brevity) runs a continuous, unbroken skein of concerted coercion--intervention, in short--which, over the centuries, has assumed many procedural forms but which, taken as a whole, represents a set of interrelated, adaptable, tactically flexible processes governed by an ongoing logic, and of which "intervention" in the narrow conventional sense (Chad, Kolwezi, Bangui, etc.) represents only a very tiny aspect. In the course of imperialism, as in most other human endeavors, the initial steps are usually those that require the least complex methodology. The initial establishment of unequal trade relations with Africa, for instance, involved only a relatively unsubtle mix of force and cunning. Later, the establishment of outright colonial occupation required, in addition to these same fundamental ingredients, a higher degree of technological sophistication to cope with the logistical problems of actual conquest and physical occupation of the land. Logistical problems (and corresponding policies) reached a new level of complexity when the emphasis shifted from the conquest and occupation of tropical lands to the development of the material, administrative and ideological infrastructure needed to manage and exploit the areas thus brought under control. Finally, for the imperial power to complete the process by bringing subjugated territories to the point where, as in a modern zoo, the inmates are no longer caged yet remain captive because of skillfully concealed restraints (whether material or mental) requires the marshalling of a much wider array of control techniques than was found in the conqueror's crude arsenal. In terms of sophistication, the gap is as wide as that between the slave driver's whip and chains and the implanting of electrodes in the brain. In its attempt to acquire, retain and preserve its control over substatial portions of the globe, France has been no different from other imperialists. Tactically, however, it has resorted to some specific devices, and although the range of control techniques used by any power to secure its goals may be finite, some powers have resorted to a wider spectrum of techniques than others, or have combined them in an idiosyncratic manner. Roots of French Imperial Policy French imperialism in the 19th century was aggressive and vigorous, but it was also in many ways archaic, even at that time, and its visibility concealed its contradictions. To the eyes of the world, France appeared as Britain's only credible rival, and this was especially true in Africa, where the expanse of purple (denoting French control) seemed a match for the large patches which British imperialists were coloring in red on the map of the continent. To what extent the success of France's territorial expansion in Africa was due to Germany's deliberate absention, and to Bismarck's shrewd policy of diverting French energies away from la revanche while Germany consolidated its power in Europe, is an academic question, but it is fair to suggest that France's African empire--not to mention Belgium's or Portugal's--might have been significantly curtailed if Bismarck had been more of a "Kolonialmensch." 3 The size of France's African empire overshadowed the fact that, in other parts of the world, France was far less successful. Indochina, the only possession acquired in Asia, paled in comparison with Britain's South Asian raj and even with Holland's Indonesian empire. Until the end of World War I, when France demanded a share of the Ottoman Empire's spoils and was conceded temporary control over the non-oil-producing portion of the "fertile 11 crescent, she had no holdings of any importance between Tunis and Saigon--a region directly or indirectly subject to British influence. Furthermore, in areas which, for various reasons, could not be brought under outright colonial control (e.g., China, the Ottoman Empire, or Latin America)--and where Western imperialism operated in a manner which, in many ways, prefigured contemporary nee-colonialism in Africa--France's economic and political influence was reduced to far more modest proportions in comparison with that of Britain, the U.S. or Germany. The French bourgeoisie invested massively in Russia, China or the Near East, but the real capitalist entrepreneurs were the British, the Americans, the Germans, or even the Belgians (who, before World War I, were far more busily engaged in building railroads and factories in China, Russia, Latin America or Egypt than in developing Leopold's Free State). Even in Africa, where France successfully acquired extensive lagged limited War II the "real estate," significantly exceptions that France economic economic development behind British of North Africa was in a position resources of its African or or Belgian and Senegal, to initiate exploitation (mise en valeur) achievements, and with the it was not until after World a systematic exploitation of empire. To say that France was not as effective in propagating the development of a capitalist mode of production in its African empire as some of the other imperialist powers does not mean that she was not motivated by economic considerations, but simply that her preoccupations were, in some respect, different from those of Britain, Belgium (or Portugal), and also that noneconomic considerations may have played a larger role in the shaping of France's colonial policies. In fact, it may be pointless to try and determine with any degree of precision the relative mix of economic and non-economic factors in any given power's colonial policies, but we should at the very least be aware of the fact that each component of a given power's policies reflects to a significant degree the idiosyncratic interests (and the idiosyncratic perception of such interests) of that particular power. In France's case, it is important to perceive that colonial expansion took place entirely during a period where the country had been made painfully aware of her gradual decline (first after the Napoleonic wars, and again, far more bitterly, after the Franco-Prussian war). The relative demographic decline of what had once been la grande nation (in the sense of its having a larger population than any other European state) was only one facet of that phenomenon, but one that became particularly obsessive after 1870, and again after World War I, and accounts in part for France's penchant for assimilationism, which, alone, could justify her self-image as la France de 100 millions d'habitants. Another feature of France's imperial expansion (already touched upon earlier) is that it was initiated by a state whose economic dynamism and level of industrial maturity was relatively less than that of its major actual or potential rivals, Protectionism and autarky, both traditional features of 4 French economic policy dating back to the Ancien Regime and dramatized by Napoleon's continental blockade, were systematically applied to France's African empire, and indeed, continued to figure as a major preoccupation in the shaping of her decolonization and post-colonial policies. The French military also played a distinctive, and somewhat ambiguous, role in the shaping of French imperial attitudes. For each colonial power, of course, the military necessarily played a decisive role in the conquest of overseas empires, but although France may have had to muster greater amounts of military force than other colonial powers in securing control of her African possessions, this would not in itself account for the singular role of the military class in the development of France's vision of her African empire. The distinctive feature in this respect is the fact that, unlike its British counterpart, the French military was used and encouraged in overseas missions partly as a way of deflecting its restlessness from civilian regimes from which it felt alienated. France's conquest of Algeria provided an outlet for a military class which, remembering the heady days of Napoleon, felt only scorn for the deliberately non-bellicose postures of the Bourbon and Orleans monarchies. Despite its famous disclaimer ("L'Empire, c'est la Paix"), the Second Empire provided the military with far more frequent opportunities to indulge in their favorite activity--including a full-fledged, but ultimately disastrous colonial cmapaign in Mexico--but the Third Republic, which was almost constantly under the threat of a military pronunciamento during the first twenty-five years of its existence, found imperial expansion a useful diversion for the pent-up energies of its potentially disloyal officer corps. In a different context, the place which French Africa (and particularly Chad) occupied in the re-emergence of a Free French military force fighting on the side of the Allies was a significant factor in convincing France's postwar military establishment (many of whose members had earned their spurs with the Free French forces) of Africa's vital strategic importance. In time, of course, the French military became deeply embroiled in colonial wars and ultimately came to control not only the direction of France's colonial policy, but even the fate of the regime itself. But, even though the military finally came to accept the merits of De Gaulle's conversion to neo-colonialism, its thinking has continued to influence the views of French policy-makers, not only with respect to the need of maintaining a military presence in Africa, but also, more generally, thorough the geopolitical form of strategic considerations which appear to have dominated France's African policies, not only since World War II, but over the past hundred years. In the shaping of those geopolitical views, the dominant themes reflect France's traditional perspective as a land-based rather than sea-going power: it includes references to 11 land bridges, 11 to the need to maintain overland 11 access 11 and communications between the different parts of France's sphere of influence, or to the danger of having one's strategic positions outflanked or turned from the rear. At various points, "real estate" such as Chad, Mauritania, the Algerian Sahara, Niger, Mali and even the Central African Republic have been discussed in such terms. Finally, one should keep in mind the tradition of legal and political unification, and of administrative centralization which the French state had inherited partly from the days of absolute monarchy, and most directly from the Jacobin and Napoleonic eras. The patterns of authoritarian 5 nation-building initiated by the first Republic were pursued by Napoleon to their logical ends and revived by the Republicans when they finally took control of the state. Imbued with an unwavering sense of the universal validity of the French Revolution's ideological premises (les grands principes de '89), 19th century Republicans held on to the belief that France's special mission was to disseminate these premises throughout the world. Napoleon was abhorred for having diverted the ideals of the Revolution for the purpose of building up his personal power, but few Republicans seemed to perceive that France's failure to export its revolution had been due to the fact that it had been promoted at the point of a gun (la revolution botee). In fact, many of them appeared to believe that no matter how much coercion had to be used to force them into the French orbit, the peoples of the world would, as soon as they had been properly enlightened, come to be thankful for having been made to discover the in any case, excellence of of universal French ideas and institutions, since these were, applicability. Despite the precedents that could be found for it in the Ancien Regime, assimilation was, in fact, the child of the Enlightenment and of the Revolution, as evidenced by the fact that assimilation policies were reactivated and promoted--at least verbally--with each new upsurge of political liberalism in France. Although France quickly reached the limits of its assimilationist rhetoric when its empire expanded from Algiers to the banks of the Congo, the policy survived in the form of a theoretical anchor which enabled France to maintain a liberal posture (at least in her own eyes), by insisting that her colonial subjects would one day enjoy "the freedom of Frenchmen in France." This latter Conference, was, context: for formula, in fact France's used by Rene used in a highly colonial subjects, Pleven at restrictive he warned, the 1944 Brazzaville and somewhat ominous "there could be no other freedom" than that which France offered to its own citizens, and he took pains to make it clear that "any form of self-government, now or in the future, is to be ruled out." Although the 1946 Constitution went on to offer internal self-government to the states of Indo-China (which promptly declined it in favor of pursuing their struggle for full independence), and devised more liberal terms of association with the Union Fran~aise for Morocco and Tunisia (and even, after a fashion, for Togo and Cameroun), France's sub-Saharan African possessions remained firmly anchored in their status of Overseas Territories, or TOMs (a term euphemistically substituted for "colonies"), and 11 as such remained part of the French Republic, "one and indivisible. 1 In strictly legal terms, therefore, any demands for independence by France's African possessions were not only illegitimate but treasonable, as would be the advocacy of secession by Alsatians or Corsicans. The only legitimate path of emancipation open to the TOMs under the terms of the 4th Republic's Constitution was that of requesting "the freedom of Frenchmen in France" by achieving full and formal integration in the French Republic as an Overseas Departement (DOM), as was done in 1946 by the Indian Ocean island of Reunion. Meanwhile, the logic of integration dictated that the proper forum for the discussion of the TOMs' problems was the French National Assembly, where they were represented (or rather, underrepresented) by a handful of deputies, and where a whole generation of African leaders, some of whom are still in power, learned to manipulate (while being simultaneously manipulated by) the French political system. 6 The election of these overseas representatives was based, until 1956, on a limited form of franchise combined with an ostensibly non-racial division of the electorate into two separate voter rolls (double college), one for the French and those few Africans who qualified for full citizenship, and the other for the rest of the population who met the restrictive conditions of suffrage. Furthermore, in keeping with an honored tradition which had been applied in France itself under the Second Empire and perpetuated in Algeria under the Third Republic, elections in the overseas constituencies were quite regularly manipulated by the administration, whether (in the case of the "European" seats) by making them "safe" for candidates affiliated with the ruling coalition, or (in the case of the "African" seats) by promoting the election of "moderates 11 --i.e., supportive of, or explicitly affiliated with, the governing parties--and by discouraging the election of "radicals." This practice, usually predicated on the administration's ability to manipulate the notables who, in turn, would deliver the votes, became far more difficult to apply when universal suffrage ( and the single roll) were introduced in 1956, but it could still be resorted to in remote areas such as Niger, where it was responsible for Djibo Bakary's election in 1956, as well as for his downfall in 1958. Centralization, which made some sense in an assimilationist perspective (since the official fate of the TOMs was to be eventually integrated in a system that was itself highly centralized), also led France to consider its African policy as an aggregate whole which, like the Republic itself, was one and indivisible. Thus, any reforms in these policies, such as the Lamine Gueye Acts or the Deferre Loi-Cadre of 1956, were invariably and automatically applied to all African territories, irrespective of the inchoateness or of the sophistication of local political forces. From Colonialism to Neo-colonialism Even though, for obvious reasons of political convenience, the 5th Republic likes to trace back the origins of French decolonization policy to its own founding hero's vague utterances at the 1944 Brazzaville Conference (which, incidentally, no Africans attended), there is no doubt that, in sub-Saharan Africa, real decolonization begins only with the 1955 Statut du Togo and, more explicitly, with the 1956 Loi-Cadre (or Deferre Act). The preamble of the 1946 Constitution (which De Gaulle had opposed) talked vaguely of France 1 s intention "to lead the people in its charge to the freedom of administering themselves and to democratically run their own affairs," but other provisions made it clear that the TOMs continued to be integral parts of the Re pub lie. The turning point of French policy came with the May 1954 defeat at Dien Bien-Phu, followed six months later by the outbreak of the Algerian liberation struggle. In the meantime, a left-of-center coalition led by Pierre MendesFrance had come to power in Paris and had initiated a political process which, aside from putting a final seal on France's loss of Indochina, sought to come to terms with the Moroccan and Tunisian nationalists. Compared to the problems of North Africa, Black Africa seemed remote and quiescent, and its aspirations did not appear as a high priority. It was only to the extent that British decolonization policy in West Africa indirectly posed a challenge to French rule in Cameroun and Togo that Mendes-France's successor, Edgar Faure, had to concern himself with that part of the world. Since the U.K. proposed 7 to discharge its Trusteeship responsibilities toward British-administered Togoland and Cameroons by integrating them, respectively, with Ghana and Nigeria, which had become self-governing in 1954 and were earmarked for prompt independence, France was under some pressure from the U.N. to match British reforms in its own portions of Togo and Cameroun. The French response was to extend to these two territories (which were not strictly TOMs, but "Associated Territories" in the intricate nomenclature of the Union Francaise) the very same degree of self-government granted to their British-administered counterparts through the 1955 Statuts of Togo and Cameroun. Like Britain at that stage, France retained control of the territories' diplomatic and external economic relations, defense, currency and financial obligations, together with a number of other items covering more or less the same areas as Britain's own "reserved powers. 11 The important difference, however, was that whereas in the case of British West Africa, internal self-government was viewed merely as a transitional stage, soon destined to give way to full independence, France apparently had no intention, at least at that stage, of going through with the last phase of the decolonization exercise. In fact, in Cameroun, where a nationalist uprising had been launched in the meantime, implementation of the Statut was purely and simply suspended until "law and order" could be restored. The 1956 decision to replicate the Togo experiment in all Overseas Territories was, therefore, remarkably bold and (by French standards) innovative. The 1956 Loi-Cadre simply proposed to extend internal self-government to all the TOMs, giving them, in fact (if not explicitly) the status of Etats Associes, which France had vainly offered to Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia ten years earlier. Although France was to retain the same extensive prerogatives as in the case of Togo, and although any mention of independence (which would have called for a constitutional revision) was carefully avoided, the LoiCadre implicitly yet irrevocably acknowledged that the TOMs' eventual integration into the French Republic as Overseas Departments (which had been the only officially sanctioned path of emancipation open to them) would, in fact, never take place, since it was clearly unrealistic to expect that the TOMs should ever wish to exchange their newly-acquired autonomy to the narrowly subordinate status of a French department. Although a few far-sighted French statesmen, such as Mitterrand, Buron and possibly Deferre, seem to have been aware of the fact that self-government would one day lead to independence, that latter outcome was still, constitutionally-speaking, as illegitimate as ever. In the eyes of the French political class, some kind of permanent, institutionalized association with France (a Commonwealth a la franc;aise, as some writers put it, in blissful ignorance of what the Commonwealth had become) represented the absolute and final limit of French concessions. That "Commonwealth a la fran~aise" took shape, in unexpected circumstances, and much sooner than had been anticipated, when the Fourth Republic collapsed and when DeGaul le grandiosely offered a "new Deal" to the African territories in the form of a Franco-African Communaute. In its original version, the community project simply reaffirmed the autonomy granted to the African territories by the Loi-Cadre and proposed that matters falling under French jurisdiction should now be handled jointly by "community" institutions in which, however, France (and particularly its President) continued to hold final decision-making power. The project's only striking innovation was that 8 11 Africans were invited to express their acceptance of this new" arrangement by ratifying the 1958 Constitution (of which only one section actually applied to them), with the understanding that any territory that did not would be allowed to secede, but only at the cost of severe economic penalties (including the loss of French aid). In De Gaulle's view, adhesion to the community, once made, would be irrevocable and the option to secede would not be offered again, but some of his European and African advisers convinced him that, put in those terms, the option of immediate independence might be too tempting to resist, and he accordingly agreed that the door to the community would remain permanently unlocked, for any members who so wished to walk out at some future point, as long as they we.-e ready to face the economic penalties, which De Gaulle refused to mitigate. The project also allowed the African member states to acquire, through negotiation, any of the prerogatives initally reserved for the community. Unofficial interpretations of this clause made it clear that no single item of sovereignty would be excluded from this process of negotiated transfer, which meant, as the African states quickly realized, that the community's (i.e., France's) reserved powers could be gradually whittled away and that it might be possible for them to acquire through negotiation rather than outright secession all the elements of full sovereignty that they still lacked. In the light of those amendments, all the African states (except Guinea, which chose to defy De Gaulle, partly for internal reasons, and Niger, where ratification was achieved largely through French manipulation, but including Togo and Cameroun) overwhelmingly chose membership in the community. Almost immediately, however, (and despite Houphouet' s hasty announcement that the community had once and for all exorcised the temptation of independence), it bacame obvious that some of the African states regarded the new arrangement as purely transitory and that, having humored De Gaulle by their massive endorsement of 11his" constitution, they now intended to resume their progress toward independence. Before reaching that point, however, leaders such as Senghor, Keita and others were hoping to arrest the trend toward balkanization which had been triggered by the Loi-Cadre and amplified by the community, but their attempts to salvage the supra-territorial links that France itself had developed for its own convenience at the turn of the century now ran into the opposition of the wealthier territories (Ivory Coast, Gabon) and found no sympathy in Paris. Only Senegal and Soudan persisted (for a time) in their effort to build a "Mali Federation," but when it became apparent that no other state would join them, Senghor and Keita shifted their sights to the issue of independence. Their strategy was to demand a negotiated transfer of al 1 community prerogatives to the Mali Federation, thereby achieving full sovereignty without ever leaving the community. The procedure called for some extraordinary amount of casuistry and double-talk on the part of all protagonists, since its outcome would be an independent state which, not having left the community, would remain a member (and thus qualify for continued assistance), even though the constitution explicitly stated that, by becoming independent, an African state would cease to be a member of the community (art. 86). Senghor and Keita made it clear, however, that if France refused to go along with their strategies, they would 9 unilaterally declare independence (as was their right under the "permanently open door" clause of the 1958 constitution). Guinea's example served as a useful reminder that such a threat should not be taken lightly, and with his usual realism, De Gaulle promptly resigned himself to accept in September, 1959, what he had so adamantly rejected in September, 1958--namely, that independence could be reconciled with membership in the community, despite the wording of art. 86. For the sake of safeguarding appearances, however, the offending article was promptly altered (thanks to a prescient clause which allowed an abbreviated procedure for the amendment of all sections dealing with the community) and, on June 20, 1960, the Mali Federation achieved independence as a member of the community, promptly followed by the four Equatorial republics and by Madagascar, which had immediately requested the benefit of the precedent established for Mali. Houhouet-Boigny, who had loudly proclaimed his complete satisfaction with the original terms of the community, refused to follow Mali's lead but, in grudging acknowledgement of the mystique of independence, and also as a face-saving device, he now announced that the Ivory Coast would not negotiate its independence with France, but rather proclaim it unilaterally (a risk-free posture since art. 86 had been amended a few days earlier). His move was thankfully emulated by Ivory Coast's Entente clients (Niger, Upper Volta and Dahomey) which had found the Houphouet line increasingly hard to justify to their domestic critics. The Entente states now declined to rejoin the revamped community which Houphouet regarded (with some justification) as an empty shell. Instead, each of them signed a set of bilateral cooperation agreements with France, replicating in every respect the bilateral cooperation agreements which Mali, Madagascar and the four ex-AEF states had signed earlier in the process of negotiating the terms of their independence. The bilateral cooperation agreements which, despite subsequent revisions, still provide the essential foundation of France's ubiquitous influence in the affairs of its former African possessions, covered precisely those areas of jurisdiction which had been reserved for France under the Loi-Cadre (or for the community under the 1958 constitution), and which the African states had just acquired through the process of achieving nominal independence--i.e., external relations, defense, currency, international trade and finance, strategic raw materials, judicial review, higher education, long-distance transportation and· telecommunications. For every one, or nearly every one of these items, bilateral agreements couched in almost identical terms established the parameters of France's continuing role in the affairs of her former dependencies. In other words, those areas of sovereignty which France had explicitly retained for itself in 1956 in its capacity as colonial ruler, then had continued to control after 1958 through its dominant position in the community, and which had just been transferred proforma to the African states were now returned, unopened, by these same African states to be again deposited into French hands for safeguarding, like a minor's inheritance. As approvingly noted by a French official: It was through the transfer of similar areas of jurisdiction that the African and Malagasy members of the Community achieved independence during the course of 10 1960. But it which provided cooperation. appeared as was also these same areas the outlines of the domain French cooperation indispensible in these of jurisdiction to be covered by quite naturally various sectors. Thus were concluded the agreements relating to diplomacy defense, currency, etc. Accordingly, while there may have been a mutation in the nature of the relationship, which changed from being institutional to being contractual, one can hardly claim that there has been a break between France and her African partners over essential matters. These have continued to receive special treatment since the (African) states have requested French assistance or accepted harmonization with French policy in those areas2. One of the most distinctive features of France's "special relationship" with its former African dependencies has been its reliance on explicit legal ins truments--which may be a reflection of France I s "written law" tradition. Though no longer enshrined in the armor of constitutional or legislative institutions (the Union Fran~aise, the Loi-Cadre, the Community), it nevertheless remains couched--one might almost say "codified"--in the form of a highly normalized set of binding documents ( the Cooperation agreements) underpinned by a number of multilateral agencies (Franc Zone, "Francophonie," 0CAM, Franco-African summits, etc.). This preference for structured linkages may be a reflection of France's legalistic formalism and passion for explicitness, but it may also betray a sense of insecurity and an uncomfortable lack of confidence in one's ability to maintain influence in the absence of formal contractual obligations. If the essence of successful neo-colonialism is the ability to assume a low visibility and to maintain control (notably economic control) without the support of an institutionalised form of dependency, then France has been one of the least effective of neo-colonialist powers since its power in Africa has consistently been based on a far more explicit (and thus far more visible) set of deliberate linkages than that of other non-Communist powers. The same penchant for hierarchically structured relationships, for command rather than consensus, for observable, of course, French Neo-Colonialism A central broadest sense) in isolation national law continues to willfully and represents France rather in the than domestic cooperative operation interaction, of French social is also institutions. in Action premise of this paper is that French intervention (in its in the affairs of its African ex-colonies cannot be understood from the total phenomenon of neo-colonialism. Just as interrecognizes as pennanent aggression the situation where a state occupy by force the territory of another state that it has wrongfully invaded, neo-colonialism (like colonialism before it) a permanent The greatest between imperative form advantage and its of intervention. of the ex-colonies system is that of structured it "cooperation" institutionalizes, linkages and therefore routinizes, continued French presence--and, hence, French involvement in the political and economic processes of the dependent country. An African country where a substantial majority of senior managerial positions were staffed by 11 Soviet nationals would promptly (and rightly) this is the situation that has prevailed over the ex-French territories without occasioning wink. be branded as a satellite, yet the past twenty years in most of more than a shrug or a cynical Apart from the fact that France is a member of the Western alliance, that other major Western powers have their own spheres of influence in Third World which they control as effectively (if not always as directly) France controls hers, one probable reason why the French presence in Africa treated as a matter of course is because it involves an ex-colonial fits a comfortable racist stereotype incapable of running their societies which assumes that Africans unless white men quietly strings. however, Beyond such considerations, the fact that French power are and the as is and totally pull the influence is technically wielded at the request of "sovereign" African states in the context of an ongoing, structured and mutually accepted relationship (while it does not seem to cut much ice where the Cuban presence in Angola or Ethiopia is concerned) is one more reason why modes of control that might otherwise be regarded as exorbitant--such as France's control and orientation of the trade policies of its African clients through the mechanisms of the Franc Zone-generate neither The sort of criticism, French nor even "intervention" much surprise. which occasionally sounds a jarring note and attracts headline attention (outright military action or more covert destabilization in Bangui, Ndjamena, Kolwezi, Mauritania or the Comoros) represents only an infinitesimal, though highly visible, aspect of the global phenomenon of French influence in Africa, and corresponds, in fact, to the institutionalized interactions set up in 1960 under the generic name of "cooperation." The purpose of the preceding section was to reconstruct the way this system came into existence. Space does not allow a detailed analysis of the way the system has evolved and operated under every one of its many aspects, in each particular country. Instead, the rest of the paper will focus primarily on some essential features of French economic and military presence in Africa, keeping in mind that these two areas are only parts (albeit crucial ones) of a wider, complex system. (French cultural policy, for example, would, in itself, deserve a full-length study.) Despite its initial uniformity and its highly structured, almost monolithic patterns, the French neo-colonial system in Africa has, over the years, turned out to be far more adaptable and tactically flexible than is commonly assumed. Though they were originally cut from the same mold, the cooperation agreements are, after all, bilateral, which means that they can be, and occasionally are, renegotiated to fit the special conditions in a given client state. Furthermore, because their actual implementation depends ultimately on French discretion (regarding, e.g., the volume of aid, or the kind and extent of military protection extended to a given state), French policy can be modulated to fit circumstantial political fluctuations (e.g., in Mali, Mauritania, Chad, Congo-Brazzaville or Madagascar), or France's own reappraisals (e.g., the Jeanneney report, or the strategic doctrine of couverture a distance) without seriously jeopardizing its long-term effectiveness or continuity. Today, despite the conceptual unity of the system and the persistence of obvious similarities, the local modalities, and even to some extent the intensity of French influence differ from country to country. 12 With some debatable exceptions, however (e.g., Chad, Mauritania or Madagascar), there is no clear evidence that France's ability to make allowances for local sensitivities has resulted in any significant reduction in the aggregate amount of influence it wields on the continent. Contrary to popular belief, the multiplication of spectacular interventions in recent years (to the extent that they betray a major malfunctioning of the neo-colonial system) is not indicative of an expansion of French influence, but apart from such embarrassing slippages, France has quietly bolstered its presence in Guinea (where it has recovered its pre-1958 position as that country's chief economic partner), in Mali ( which has now returned to orthodox Franc Zone membership after attempting for many years to maintain a semi-detached relationship), and of course, Bissau. in some non-formerly-French states such as Zaire and even Guinea- Increased tactical flexibility largely reflects France's growing selfconfidence in its role as a neo-imperialist power. To the extent that the past twenty years have not witnessed any real lessening of the dependency and relative underdevelopment of the African states (quite possibly the reverse, in fact), there is less need than ever for France to cling narrowly to the letter of unequal treaties which are an easy target for radical critics and a source of embarrassment to her African clients, when their continued subservience is, in fact, far more effectively guaranteed by their mounting indebtedness, by their growing imbrication in the capitalist trade system, and by the corruption and self-indulgence of their leaders. De Gaulle's once the network was the earliest jurist: From the members, voluntary that such in turn, achieving willingness to write off the second (or revamped) community of cooperative agreements (and the UAM) had made it redundant manifestation of this flexibility. In the words of a French moment that it accepted the independence of its the Community could not dispense with their cooperation, but conversely, from the moment voluntary cooperation was forthcoming, it could, dispense with the Community while nevertheless the same purpose.3 Another early sign of flexibility was France's cynical recognition of the fact that, while the operation of a neo-colonial system requires compliant indigenous partners, their specific identity is, in the final analysis, relatively unimportant. Over the four years extending from the Loi-Cadre to independence, France was inordinately concerned with (and therefore actively intervened in) the process whereby a set of indigenous leaders were being put in charge of the different African territories. The fact that France was itself in a process of political turmoil and experienced a high changeover rate in its political and senior bureaucratic personnel during that four-year period made its attempts to ensure the emergence of interlocuteurs valables (i.e., accomodating African partners) less consistent than it might have been, but in most cases the candidates competing for co-optation were reassuringly interchangeable in their moderation. As long as African politicians had been considered primarily in terms of their ability to alter the fragile equilibrium of France's domestic party system, French politicans and their agents in Africa, the colonial governors 13 (most of whom owed their career to partisan loyalty) could attach a great deal of importance to the question of whether to back a Lamine Gueye or a Senghor, a Leon M'ba against an Aubame, or a Youlou over an Opangault, variously identified with the Christian-Democratic MRP, the Social-Democratic SFIO, the Gaullist RPF or the left-of-center UDSR. In the context of the new system that was taking shape between 1956 and 1960, however, such preoccupations soon became irrelevant since most African leaders were clearly ready to preserve privileged ties with France. The illusion of decisive change and conflict between radically different options was promoted, in part, by the fact that the French administration had, for years, insisted on regarding the RDA as a radically subversive party. Even though Houphouet-Boigny had taken pains to repudiate this image as early as 1950, it was not until several years later that the RDA was certified as "safe." This record of French hostility (now replaced by an attitude of benevolent neutrality) combined with the RDA' s populist tradition gave it a tremendous appeal in the 1957 elections--held, for the first time, under universal suffrage--and swept it into power in a majority of territories. The sense of upheaval created by the 1957 elections was, in many cases, unwarranted, but there is no doubt that, if only because of the size of the electorate involved, they generated for the leaders of the new African administrations a legitimacy which they later used to certify to their baffled followers, first the merits of the commnity, then those of the cooperation agreements. French Military Protection and Political Stability In this transitional period, France was still actively involved in securing the enthronement of its proteges, or in easing out "unreliable" leaders (e.g., in Cameroun, or Niger). After independence, however, the logic of neo-colonialism demanded that the African incumbents should carry the responsibility of ensuring their own political survival by whatever means they thought appropriate. Every defense agreement nevertheless included an insurance" clause promising French military support not only against external aggression, but also against domestic upheavals. It soon appeared, however, that the value of this insurance policy depended entirely upon France's willingness to honor it. In Cameroun, where France had been involved in a protracted counterinsurgency campaign since 1955, military activities simply continued, presumably under the terms of the defense agreement ( the terms of which had not been made public). In August, 1960, on the other hand, French troops not only declined to save the Mali federation, but through their presence in Dakar, deterred any attempt by the federal authorities to forcibly prevent Senegal's divorce from Soudan. In December, 1962, French forces stepped in the midst of a domestic constitutional and political conflict between Senegalese President Senghor and Prime Minister Mamadou Dia and settled it in favor of Senghor, who thereupon had Dia thrown in jail. In Togo, where President Olympia had declined to sign a formal defense agreement with France, the credibility of the insurance clause was not, strictly speaking, in question, but the 1963 overthrow of neutralist Olympia was hardly viewed as a great loss in Paris, since it led to the ascent of President Grunitzky, who hastened to bring his country in line with the other ex-French states by signing all the requisite bilateral agreements. In Benin (then Dahomey), which had been a somewhat reluctant partner in the 14 regional arrangements concocted by France and the Ivory Coast, the October 1963 uprising turned out to be a victory for the faction that was closest to the Ivory Coast (and consequently, to France), so that Paris had no real interest in backing the Maga-Apithy regime against its opponents--and accordingly, did not. The case of Congo-Brazzaville (August, 1963) was again somewhat different: there, a regime which had been particularly compliant (to the point of serving as a willing conduit for France's efforts to hasten Lumumba's overthrow and to encourage Tshombe's secession) was challenged by urban popular demonstrations organized by the labor unions. Although the prospect of having to cast French troops against the urban populace was not an attractive one, France might have reconciled itself to it if it had not been for the fact that Youlou's team of European "advisors" notoriously included several suspected sympathizers of the ultra-rightist OAS (Secret Army Organization), which had attempted to assassinate De Gaulle a few months earlier. Youlou was therefore abandoned to his fate--the first of a long list of expendable leaders to which the names of Dacko, Yameogo, Tombalbaye, Malloum, Tsiranana and Bokassa were to be later added. Shortly thereafter, however, France also demonstrated that it was prepared to intervene even in the absence of a formal request when it rescued and reinstated Gabon's Leon M'ba, who had been abducted by the authors of a military putsch before he had had a chance to place a phone call to Paris. Over the years, therefore, it became gradually obvious that only a handful of African leaders (Senghor and Houphouet, to be sure, but also possibly Ahidjo, M'ba and his hand-picked successor, Omar Bongo) could be assured of a lifelong personal coverage under France's military insurance policy, but that other regimes could be sacrificed (whether suddenly, or after a decent interval, as in the case of Tombalbaye and Malloum) in the interests of expediency. The fact that those leaders entitled to preferential protection happen to rule over four countries where the bulk of French economic interests are concentrated is not without significance, but the logic of French intervention is not always directly or exclusively governed by economic considerations. For the more expendable leaders, at any rate, France's selective protection policy may serve as a permanent reminder of the need to remain in Paris' good graces, especially since there is good reason to believe that, on several occasions, France has found ways of letting ambitious officers know that it would not object to their taking over (e.g., in Upper Volta, the Central African Republic or Niger). France's apparent willingness to take African political instability in stride has its limits, however. France equanimity in the face of sudden regime changes is clearly predicated on the assumption that whatever regime may come to power in a small impoverished African state will inevitably be compelled by situational imperatives to preserve its "special relationship" with Paris. This smug tolerance may even extend to regimes which ostensibly affect a radical ideological stance (e.g., Congo-Brazzaville), but it can rapidly wear thin when French policies or interests are actually challenged: the involvement of Gilbert Bourgeaud (alias Bob Denard) in the 1977 abortive attenpt against the Kerekou government of Benin and in the succesful 1978 overthrow of the Soilih regime in the Comoros is illustrative of a form of 15 French intervention for which the pattern It should be noted, however, that channels of French influence does not areas. Daring assertions of ideological Brazzaville, for instance, have not led agreements or to desert the Franc was set by Jacques Foccart. deviance from some of the orthodox necessarily spill over into other independence by Benin and Congothem to repudiate formal cooperation Zone. Conversely, Mauritania's decision to leave the Franc Zone and to launch its own currency did not affect that country's tolerance of French mining interests, nor did it prevent it from receiving sustained (albeit ineffectual) French military assistance during the three years when it tried to occupy a portion of the Western Sahara and to cope with the Polisario insurgents. Similarly, despite its rapprochement with France after the 1968 overthrow of Modibo Keita, Mali persisted until early 1981 in its attempt to maintain a separate currency, and France obliged with ad hoc arrangements that provided Mali with some of the benefits of Franc Zone membership. Madagascar ostensibly left the Franc Zone after its revolution, but the strict parity of the French and Malagasy Francs has nevertheless been maintained--presumably as a result of a tacit arrangement with Paris.4 Aside from relying dependency rather than their formal adherence maintain its African increasingly on the upon the personality to the institutions sphere of influence, structural constraints of specific African of neo-colonialism France has also of economic leaders or on in order to revised its inter- vention policy in the light of changing strategic and logistical realities. The end of the Algerian war altered many of the geopolitical considerations that had guided the thinking of French military circles. In fact, as early as November, 1961, General De Gaulle had emphasized, in an address to army commanders, the need to rely on an intervention force rather than on the permanent stationing of large contingents overseas: Since the relative distance berween continents is continu- ally being reduced, there is no longer any danger or conflict anywhere in which a world power--and consequently France--is not interested. . . Thus, a land-, sea-, and air-force of intervention designed to act any time, anywhere is, in effect, a necessity for France."5 The actual implementation of De Gaulle's plan was not completed until the end of 1963 and benefited significantly ( in terms of logistical sophistication, if not in terms of strategic conceptualization) from the demonstration effect of the "Big Lift" exercise staged by the U.S. in 1963. That operation showed that logistical advances (and notably the development of heavy, long-distance air carriers) made it possible to thin down the actual physical presence of military units in key strategic locations, and that deterrence could be achieved as a result of the demonstrated possibility of rapid and relatively massive intervention from outlying bases. Thus, the number of French troops stationed overseas, which had already been reduced from 60,000 in 1960 (excluding Algeria) to 35,000 in 1963 could be thinned down even further. In Senegal alone, French military presence was drastically scaled down from 27,800 in 1960 to 6,600 to 1965, and to 900 to 1,200 since the late 1970s. A military infrastructure (including ground 16 facilities, overflight rights, and maintenance personnel) needs to be maintained, of course, but the highly visible and thus politically sensitive quartering of large French contingents on African soil of a semi-permanent basis can be substantially reduced. For all its appealing features, this strategy of couverture a distance has serious shortcomings, as the U.S. later discovered in Southeast Asia. While eminently suited to swift, "surgical" interventions (as recently demonstrated in Bangui), it was not designed to deal with generalized, or even low-level insurgency, with wars of with attrition, guerrilla operations, or with cross-border infiltrations. Such conditions were met in Chad, where French intervention over a dozen years was unable to defeat the Northern insurgents or even to ensure the victory of the rebel faction it had finally chosen to back faute de mieux. By contrast, French intervention easily (if not altogether elegantly) managed to eliminate Tombalbaye, then Malloum, to co-opt Hissene Habre without ever achieving any lasting stabilization. In Mauritania, where France wisely abstained from becoming involved in ground operations, crippling rail line air missions were the operation of the and even from staging unable to prevent the Polisario insurgents Zouerate mines from cutting the country's two daring raids against the capital city. from only Even in -Zaire, where insurgent activity was far more localized and improvised, the much-publicized intervention by the Foreign Legion at Kolwezi was far from conclusive, since the FNLC insurgents, who had actually evacuated the city hours before the French attack, were able to withdraw without any losses. As a political operation, however, it was remarkably successful--not least because it created between the Giscard and Mobutu regimes a solidarity based on their common need to distort reality: about the inglorious behavior of the Zairean forces who fled from the rebel advance but massacred African and expatriate civilians or about the comic-opera posture of the Foreign Legion who stormed onto a position already abandoned by the enemy, about the number of expatriate victims, the fact that most of them were killed by Zairean army deserters and looters or that they might have been peacefully evacuated (as were all the U.S. nationals), and about the alleged role of Angolan, Cuban or East German advisers, which never was documented. Aside from its significance as part of France I s longstanding effort to extend its political and military influence in Zaire, the operation also served to dramatize the credibility of French military protection at a time when its ineffectiveness in Chad and Mauritania was becoming increasingly apparent, and on the eve of a Franco-African summit scheduled to deal with issues of military cooperation. And while President Giscard I s plan for a permanent French-backed "inter-African force" received only lukewarm support at that summit meeting, France's ability to persuade Morocco, Senegal, Togo, the Ivory Coast and Gabon to contribute to a joint peace-keeping force to be stationed in Shaba offered evidence of its leverage on some African states. The fact that the Kolwezi operation could not have taken place if the U.S. had not agreed to supply carrier aircraft to ferry French (and Belgian) contingents to Zaire, however, was a further indication of the limits of France I s capacity for independent intervention and lent some weight to the disparaging comment that the French were merely acting as les Cubains de l'Occident. 17 Economic Dependency: Trade and the Franc Zone The importance of France's economic ties with Africa, and particularly with her former African dependencies, is more complex and more elusive. France herself consistently downplays the economic significance of such ties, and takes pain to project the image of a policy governed by humanitarian considerations and by a sense of moral obligation toward the population of her former dependencies. In a recent appearance on West German television, President Giscard dismissed as "insulting and stupid" the idea that France might be seeking economic advantages in those African countries where she had mounted interventions, claiming that these countries are "among the twentyfour poorest in the world," have "no natural or mineral resources" and survive entirely on French assistance.6 Even allowing for Giscard's usual sanctimoniousness and for the fact that West German television viewers might have only a dim awareness of Central Africa's diamonds, Mauritania's iron and copper ores or Chad's cotton (not to mention Shaba' s not insubstantial mineral wealth), such a statement may be less than wholly credible. Yet, France can point out that the total value of her trade with members of the Franc Zone (including DOM/TOMs) represents only 4 percent ( 1978) of the combined value of her exports and imports, and that the African members of the Franc Zone account for a mere 3.4 percent of her exports, and for 2.29 percent of her imports in that same year.7 In fact, a more accurate assessment of Africa's contributions to France's trade would show that in 1977, all African states (including South Africa) actually absorbed nearly 15 percent of France's exports and supplied approximately 9 percent of her imports (with oil alone accounting for nearly one-fourth of those imports).8 Even if we limit ourselves to the African members of the Franc Zone, the fact that their commercial links with France represent only a small portion of France's total external trade tells only a part of the story. For one thing, it gives no idea of the importance of France as a trading partner for each of the countries in question. A more detailed examination of the statistical evidence, however, confirms France's vital the African members of the Franc Zone. role as a client and supplier for FRANCE'S SHARE IN THE EXPORTS AND IMPORTS OF AFRICAN FRANC ZONE COUNTRIES, 1976 % Exports Country Benin Cameroon Central African Chad Comoros Congo Gabon Ivory Coast Mali Niger Senegal Togo Upper Volta 31.0 25.4 44.4 14. 9 57.4 15. 9 42.1 25.4 30.8 54.0 45.5 28.2 26.3 Republic Source: Zone Franc; to France IMF % Imports from France 29.9 44.5 45.5 57.3 30.0 47.1 68.7 38.4 40. 1 43.4 40.7 33.2 44.4 18 In other words, while African members of the Franc Zone may occupy a limited place in the aggregate pattern of France's external trade, the reverse clearly does not apply. Both as a client and as a supplier, France remains far and away the leading trading partner for all Franc Zone members. In fact, this is equally true of those former French African dependencies which have left the Franc Zone: in 1976, Madagascar and Mauritania (which technically left the Franc Zone in 1973) sold 28.8 percent and 21. 7 percent of their exports to France, respectively, while obtaining 54.3 perent and 44.3 percent of their imports from France. Even Guinea, which for all practical purposes left the Franc Zone in 1958, carried nearly one-fifth of its trade with France in 1976, and the former metropole has resumed her place as that country's leading trade partner since 1977. The predominance of commercial ties between African territories and their former colonial power is, of course, not unusual: Great Britain, Belgium and even (in Somalia's case) Italy, have continued to be major trading partners for their former dependencies, but nowhere has this pattern been more evident or more resilient than in the case of ex-French Africa. The following table illustrates the persistence of commercial ties between France and her former African possessions by comparing, for each of these countries, the lowest and highest shares of their respective exports to, and imports from, France over two periods of three years, one in the late 1960s and the other in the late 1970s. With a few notable exceptions (Gabon, Togo and Upper Volta, for their imports; the Central African Republic, Congo-Brazzaville, Mali and Upper Volta for their exports), the overall pattern suggests a slight reduction of France's PERSISTENCEOF TRADINGPATTERNSBETWEENFRANCEANDHER FORMERAFRICANCOLONIES 1966-68/1976/78 % Exports 1966-1968 Country Benin Cameroon Central African Chad Congo Gabon Ivory Coast Madagascar+ Mali++ Mauritania+ Niger Senegal Togo Upper Volta Source: * ** # + Republic Zone Franc; 35-53 38-39 37-42 49-57 10-ll 36-45 35-39 33-46 9-16 21-31 55-77 66-80 39-40 14-16 to France 1976-1978 25-31* 25-31 44-63 na 14-27* 21-42* 23-26 25-34/f 21-31/f 22-24* 54-64* 45-48* 21-39* 15-48* IMF 1975-1977 1973-1975 1974-1976 left the Franc Zone in 1973 ++ not a member of the Franc Zone in 1966-68 % Imports 1966-1968 50-52 53-58 55-61 46-50 58-61 59-60 51-58 63-65 30-39 55-57 48-52 44-53 30-32 44-45 from France 1976-1978 23-25* 42-45 46-58 37-42** 47-50* 67-69* 38-40 36-55/f 24-40 44-49* 30-43* 37-41* 33-35* 44-45* 19 commercial predominance. Considering that Africa's trade with LDCs and Socialist countries has continued to stagnate at a very low level (16.4 percent in 1964-69 and 16.8 percent in 1973-78), this gradual shift in the direction of Francophonic Africa's trade has been to the almost exclusive benefit of other capitalist industrial countries--notably France's EEC partners. This limited multi-lateralization is largely due to the gradual elimination of protectionist practices and preferential inducements (such as the well-known surprix) whereby France managed to maintain privileged trading relations with her ex-colonies. The modernization and the increasing competitiveness of her economy have also contributed to mitigate France's traditionally autarkic philosophy which, for decades--and even centuries--had led her to draw the largest possible share of her basic needs from her own imperial domain (often at a higher cost to her consumers). Yet, while the days when France accounted for two-thirds of AOF/ AE.F's trade movement9 are clearly gone, her continued importance for the economies of her former African dependencies can hardly be overemphasized. Indeed, where certain vital resources are concerned (e.g., uranium or oil and natural gas), France's insistence on securing preferential access through bilateral agreements illustrates the persistence of her autarkic attitudes. In their trade with France, most African members of the Franc Zone end up as net importers. In 1977, for instance, only Niger and the Central African Republic showed a trade surplus in their exchanges with France. In 1976, the African members of the Franc ZonelO collectively registered a FF 1,599 million trade deficit toward France. In that same year, however these countries reaped a FF 2,541 m. surplus from their trade with countries outside the Franc Zone, and although this surplus weighed relatively little in the overall trade deficit of the Franc Zone (FF 46,200 mil., of which FF 41, 766 m. was generated by France alone), it nevertheless balanced the substantial deficit incurred by the DOM/TOMs (whose combined population is only 2.5 percent of that of the African members) in their trade with non-Franc Zone members (FF 2,670 m.). In fact, only five of the thirteen African members of the Franc Zone ( Gabon, Ivory Coast, Cameroun, Congo and the Central African Republic) actually register a surplus in their trade with non-Zone members. The modest trade surplus which Niger had begun to achieve during the 1970s was largely derived from its sale of uranium to France, and the seven other states regularly show negative balances whether in their trade with France or with non-Zone members. In 1977, those five African states which, alone among all members of the Franc Zone, earned a net surplus from their trade with the outside world, had accumulated positive balances totalling FF 6,981 mil. against non-Zone members, with Gabon and the Ivory Coast respectively accounting for 58 percent and 30 percent of that trade surplus. In sum, the African members of the Franc Zone represent a small yet significant market for French products and a source of primary commodities that is all the more accessible because French imports from these countries do not require any outlay of foreign exchange. Similarly, Franc Zone membership operates as a built-in incentive for the purchase of French goods by the African states, despite the ostensible elimination of preferential trading clauses. In this respect, and despite the potential multilateralization of commercial linkages fostered by EEC-EAMA and EEC-APC association agreements, the Franc Zone has continued to function in a semi-autarkic perspective. Taken as a group, the African members contribute a net surplus to the Zone's 20 foreign exchange reserves, but the viability of this arrangement the continued affiliation of a small number of countries--notably the Ivory Coast--whose exchange-earning capacity underwrites the France's sphere of influence. depends on Gabon and survival of French Aid Policy While effects debate for Third a capitalist continues over the World countries framework, there definition of of economic is no longer "development, growth (genuine any serious 11 or over the or perverse) question that II in aid" (or what passes for it) is, in all essential respects, a policy instrument whereby the industrialized countries, individually or collectively, can penetrate Third World societies or stabilize their influence in former colonial areas. ll While maintaining (like all donors) the fiction that humanitarian concerns are explicitly a primary cynical a carrot-and-stick restructuring motivation of its aid than most nee-colonialist combination of its sphere in order policies, powers to secure France in using African its has been more assistance acquiescence as to the of influence. France enjoys (and cultivates) the reputation of being a generous aidgiver, and while this is by and large true (in terms of aid volume, if not of motivations), the view has to be qualified in several respects. The magnitude of French governmental aid reflects a deliberate willingness on the part of the state to use public funds to preserve or further in its former colonies (and, to a lesser extent, in other Third World countries) economic, cultural and political conditions favorable to the development of French private interests. In absolute amounts, France is the second largest source of official development aid (ODA) next to the U.S., with contributions of $3·,370 million (or 11.5 percent of all ODA) in 1979. Her effort in this regard amounts to 0.59 percent of her GNP, nearly three times the share that the U.S. devotes to ODA (0.20 percent in 1979). France also leads the ex-colonial powers in terms of the portion of her GNP allocated to ODA (Belgium: 0.56 percent; U.K.: 0.52 percent). On the other hand, several countries now devote a much larger share of their GNP to ODA than does France: this is particularly true of the OPEC countries (Saudi Arabia: 3.13 percent; the UAEs: 5.42 percent; Kuwait: 5.14 percent; Qatar: 5.6 percent; Iraq: 2.94 percent), and of the small countries of Northern Europe (Sweden: 0.94 percent; Norway: 0.93 percent; Netherlands: 0.93 percent; Denmark: 0.75 percent). Furthermore, French aid as a percentage of her GNP steadily declined through the 1960s and the 1970s, while that same indicator was on the rise for most aid-giving countries. As a percentage of the GNP, French aid declined from 0.66 percent in 1970 to 0.57 percent in 1978, while over the same period, Austria, Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Germany, Finland, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, the U.K. and the OPEC nations increased the volume of their development assistance, both in absolute and in relative terms. FRENCHAID AS PERCENTAGE OF GNP Year 1962 1963 1964 1970 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 % GNP 1.76 1.38 1.26 0.66 0.62 0.62 0.60 0.57 0.59 21 Another significant factor has to do with the way in which each donor's aid package is distributed. As a rule, bilateral aid is generally regarded as more narrowly tied to the furthering of the donor's national interests, and thus, more susceptible of being used for political leverage than multilateral assistance, In this light, it should be noted that France consistently devotes a much larger share of its ODA to bilateral projects than all other DAC (OECD) countries. In 197 8, 65. 7 percent of the ODA supplied by the DAC member countries went to bilateral assistance, while France channeled 87. 7 percent of her aid through bilateral programs. The breakdown of DAC assistance summarized as follows: be between bi- and multilateral programs can MULTILATERAL VS. BILATERALODAFROMDACMEMBERCOUNTRIES Country 1970 Australia Austria Belgium Canada Denmark Finland France West Germany Italy Japan Netherlands New Zealand Norway Sweden Switzerland United Kingdom United States (Total DAC) Source: % Multilateral* 1978 1979 1970 % Bilateral 1978 1979 9.8 57.1 23.4 19.5 36.8 83.3 10.6 21.9 56.3 17.4 21.3 21.7 59.4 45.9 40.0 17.9 15.6 29.1 26.9 41.8 38.5 44.0 58.8 12.3 33.3 92.9 30.4 26.8 17.6 46.1 39.3 42.1 41.3 38.5 26.9 55.5 32.1 45.7 45.3 57.1 16.9 36.4 88.9 26. 9 31.2 23.3 41.9 35.1 47.6 44.2 15.0 90.2 42.9 76.6 80.5 63.2 16.7 89.4 78.1 43.7 82. 6 78.7 78.3 40.6 54.1 60.0 82.1 84.4 70.9 73.1 58.2 61.5 56.0 41.2 87.7 66.7 7.1 69.6 73.2 82.4 53.9 60.7 57.9 58.7 61.5 73.1 44.5 67.9 54.3 54.7 42.8 83.1 63.6 11.1 73.1 68.8 76.7 58.1 64.9 52.4 55.8 85.0 (17.6) (34.3) (28.6) (82.4) (65.7) (71.4) OECD * Includes contributions through EEC In fact, France devotes a smaller portion of her GNP to multilateral development funds than any other member of the OECD's Development Assistance Committee (DAC), when her assessed contributions to the EEC are excluded. In 1978-79, France allocated only 0.05 percent of her GNP (9.2 percent of her total aid for these two years) to multilateral development funds, compared to ranges of 0.3 to 0.4 percent for Norway, Sweden and Denmark, and of 0.15 to 0.21 percent for Canada, Australia, Great Britain or the Benelux countries. the Futhermore, fact that any assessment of France's aid policies must take into roughly one-half of bilateral aid flows are directed account toward 22 France's population alone.12 actually upon Overseas Departments and Territories (DOM/TOMs), whose combined (1,469,000 in 1979) represents less than two-thirds of that of Togo A substantial portion of the flows going to the DOMs, for example, represents the public central agencies statutory transfers government and certain The distribution for the catagories of French which, under benefit of of French bilateral aid covered the Ministry law, are incumbent administrative units, citizens. in 1979 thus went as follows: DOM/TOM ••••••••••••••••••••••.••.•••• Countries French local 50% by for Cooperation •••••• 29% Maghre b •••••••••••••.•••••.••••••••••• 8% Other LDCs•••••••••••••••••••••••..•• 13% Not only does France allocate a much higher OECD countires to bilateral programs: she also share of her aid devotes a larger than other portion of that bilateral assistance to technical cooperation programs, most of it in the form of remunerations paid to French technical assistance personnel. In 1979, 59. 2 percent of France's bilateral aid (49. 2 percent of her total ODA) was allocated to technical cooperation programs. The percentage of total ODA devoted to technical cooperation projects by the DAG member countries between 1970 and 1979 is presented in the following table: TECHNICALCOOPERATION AS PERCENTAGE OF TOTALODA Countr 1970 1978 1979 Australia Austria Belgium Canada Denmark Finland 6.4 28.6 43.5 12.2 18.4 n 45.4 31.2 12.5 4.3 19.7 21. 7 12.5 18.4 6.7 23.1 18.8 7.3 18.5 34.5 5.8 17.3 25.0 50. 9 29.7 14.3 8.7 21.9 29.4 10.0 11.1 5.0 19.1 7. 4 7.7 26.3 33.9 4.3 17.3 33.3 49.2 25. 0 25.0 (23.5) (20.0) (20.0) France West Germany Italy Japan Netherlands New Zealand Norway Sweden Switzerland United Kingdom United States (All DAG) Source: OECD 7. 7 20. 4 30.0 8.6 9.6 4.8 19.2 10.0 23 In 1978, French contributions to bilateral technical cooperation programs totalled $1,389.5 million, or 36.75 percent of the aggregate amount devoted to such programs by all DAC countries. In that same year, the number of French state-sponsored technical assistance personnel serving in developing countries (27,068) exceeded the combined total of all such personnel supplied by the other eight EEC countries. Of that number, 75.7 percent (or 20,490 persons) were teachers, most of them based in Africa. This represented more than twice the number of government-sponsored teaching personnel (9,269) jointly supplied by all other OECD countries.13 Aside from governmental aid, private flows from France to developing countries added up to $5,315 million in 1979 (vs. $5,224 million in 1978). These consisted, for the most part, of bank loans ($2,311 m., or 43.5 percent) and supplier's credits ($1,801 m., or 33.9 percent). Direct investments (up 55 percent from 1978) amounted only to $681 million, of which nearly 40 percent went to Spain alone (Spain being officially defined as a "developing country" by the DAC. Thus, the total of public and private flows from France to all developing areas (including such recipients as Spain or the DOM/TOMs) added up in 1979 to $8,685 million, or 1.52 percent of France's GNP, compared to $7,929 million (1.67 percent of GNP) in 1978. Private flows from France to the LDCs (at market terms) represent 10. 72 percent of the total of private flows from all DAC countries (vs. 25.56 percent for the U.S., 19. 08 percent for the U .K. and 11. 12 percent for Switzerland). More significantly, even after its 55 percent increase from 1978 to 1979, French direct investment in all developing countries represented only 5. 05 percent of the total of such investments by all DAC countries and lagged behind the U.S., the U.K., West Germany and Japan. Measured against their respective GNPs, France's direct investments also ranked behind those of Switzerland, Belgium, the Netherlands, Italy and Sweden. By contrast, supplier's credits which, more than any other type of private flows, are likely to be applied to projects and purchases of doubtful value for the recipient country (and thus may be expected to involve a higher degree of corruption) represent a larger portion (33.9 percent) of all private flows than is the case with the U.S., the U.K., Switzerland, Japan, West Germany, Belgium or Canada. In absolute amounts, only Italy, among all the DAC countries, channels more funds than France into this particular category of private flows.14 As a final note, it should be observed that grants by private voluntary agencies to the LDCs absorb only 0.004 percent of France's GNP (a "performance" record easily surpassed by all other DAC countries with the exception of Japan and Italy.) Such grants by private charitable organizations represent less than 0.7 percent of France's official development aid, compared to nearly 22 percent in the case of the U.S., 24.8 percent for Switzerland, 11.6 percent for West Germany, 12. 7 percent for Austria, 6.5 percent for Belgium and 2.8 percent for the U.K. Conclusion The picture that emerges from the foregoing data is that of a power whose influence is heavily dependent upon governmental policies aimed at the devlopment (or preservation) of bilateral links with specific LDCs, with a 24 strong degree of reliance on high-intensity modes of operation (military presence, Franc Zone, education). By contrast, the French private sector is only moderately aggressive compared to that of other capitalist countries. French private interests remain overwhelmingly dominant in the former African dependencies (see Appendix II), but despite spectacular political gambles on the part of French policy-makers (support for the Biafra, Katanga and Cabinda secession attempts, military intenvention in Zaire, sanction-busting in Rhodesia), French economic interests have by and large failed to gain any substantial footholds outside of their former empire. Even in Zaire, where France went to great lengths to court the Mobutu regime (and thus erase the negative effect of its earlier support of Tshombe), French investments in 1978 were only $20 million, compared with Belgium's $6,000 million.15 That stake has now been enlarged through Zaire's willingness to offer France a share of the SMTF (Tenke-Fungurume) mining project, but it remains to be seen whether French interest groups are ready to muster (and risk) the resources needed to exploit the openings created by the policy-makers. There, as in other parts of the world, France's reach may not be equal to her ambitions. 25 Footnotes 1. Constitution of 4th French z. Maurice P• 12. 3. Rene de Lacharriere, p. 481. 4. Africa 5. militaire Quoted by M. Ligot in "La Cooperation entre la France et les Eta ts Africains fran~aise," RJPOM, 1963, No. 4, p. 518. 6. Le Monde, 7. Based 8. Marches 9. In 1954, supplied 10. Excluding 11. For a concise treatment of this issue, Imperialism (1974), or C.R. Hensman, Rich Aid (1971). 12. The DOMs are: Guadaloupe, Miquelon. The TOMs include Futuna, and the TAA's (Terres 13. Data from: 226-227- 14. Ibid., PP• 184-185. 15. Comite 117. Zaire, Ligot, "Vue Generale 11 Oct., in sur "Communaute Contemporary on data Republic, Record, Article les et 60. Accords de Cooperation," Cooperation," XI (1978-79), Penant, RJPOM, 1926, Sept .-Oct. 1961, B-300. dans les accords passes et Malgache d 'expression 1979. La Zone Franc Tropicaux, 4 Aug., en 1978 (Paris, n.d., 1979), pp. 36-39. 1978. for example, France absorbed 66 percent 68 percent of its imports. The same pattern of AOF's prevailed exports and for AEF. Chad. OECD, Development Zaire: see Teresa Against Poor: Hayter, Aid The Reality Martinique, Guyane, Reunion and New Caledonia, French Polynesia, Australes et Antarctiques). Cooperation: Le Dossier de la 1980 Review Recolonisation (Paris, (Paris, as of St. Pierre Wallis and 1980), 1978), pp. p. 26 APPENDIXI FRENCHMILITARYTROOPSIN AFRICA, 1980* Central African Republic......................... •. . . . . . . • Chad ........•.....•............•........................•. 1,800 Djibouti .................................................. 4, 150 Coast............................................... 450 Mauritania................................................ 250 Ivory Senegal ................................................... Total. * 350 Exclusive of instructors 1, 170 .•••.•...•.•.•.••.••....••• and exports seconded to African 8,665 governments. APPENDIXII SHAREOF FRENCHINTERESTSIN THE MANUFACTURING SECTOROF 10 AFRICANCOUNTRIES (See p. 27) SHAREOF FOREIGNANDFRENCHINTERESTSIN R.C.A. Conso Fisheries: Foreign 100 (French) (90) Timber Products: Foreign 100 (French) (na) Oil· and: Fats: Foreign (French) Food Products: Foreign 100 (French) (100) Tobacco: Foreign 100 100 (French) (100) (100) Beverages: Foreign 100 97.5 (French) (75.5) (50) Textiles: Foreign 70 9 (French) (60) (9) Shoes/Leather Prod.: Foreign 100 100 (French) (na) (na) Chemicals & Petrochem.: Foreign 83 100 (French) (77) (100) Building Materials Foreign (French) Yiechanical/Metal.-Elect. Foreign (French) Metal Transformations: Foreign 100 76 (French) (100) (76) Printing/Paper Prod,: Foreign (French) APPENDIX II THEMANUFACTURING SECTOROF 10 FRANCOPHONE AFRICANSTATES(in%~ Chad Senegal Cameroon Benin Niger U. Vo_lta Gabon Toso 67 (na) 88.7 (77.5) 84 (45) 80 (75) 96.3 (96. 3) 78.5 (72.5) 71 (na) 29.3 (29-:.3) 84.5 (84.5) 85 (85) 79 (67) 63.5 (18.6) 75 (38) 52 (28) 66 (na) 100 (na) 100 (na) 64 (47 .5) 60 (60) 39.7 (30.0) 48 (48) 50 (50) 86 (86) 90 (88) 50 (50) 85.5 (85.5) ciB> 59.5 (na) 94 (94) 100 (100) 48.5 (48.5) 72.4 (72. 4) 90 (90) 90 (90) 93.5 (93.5) 90.3 (53. 7) (82.7) 95 (95) 85 (35) 82.4 (82. 4) 70 (70) (38) 100 100 61 (28,5) 100 93 (73.5) 46 (46) 45 (35) (60) 25 (25) 75 (37) 71 (71) 96.5 (96.5) 50 (SO) 95.8 (95. 8) 92.3 82 (82) 37.5 (37. 5) 59.4 (47) 70 (70) 69 (4.5) 5.5 (5.5) 38 82 (20) (na) 72 81.8 (75.5) c~8> d8:§> d~> "' .___,