How we tracked him down
TRACKING down an African dictator deposed in a coup is a tricky business. These guys tend to be jumpy, fearing assassins at every turn.
Our hunt began in our hotel room at the Leger Plaza in Bangui, days after the March 24 coup, when he had fled to neighbouring Cameroon. We heard that he was holed up in the Hilton in Cameroon’s capital, Yaounde, a short hop in an aeroplane from Bangui. We only got as far as several calls to his aide, who politely informed us that the president would not be able to see us.
Four months later, we received an e-mail from a former senior South African military commander with close ties to the one-time strongman: François Bozizé was in Douala, Cameroon’s seedy port.
“He feels deeply betrayed by President [Jacob] Zuma . . . He will talk to you . . . Zuma promised to send extra troops, but they never arrived. Bozizé is isolated. Go talk to him . . . He sent his son to pave the way, and days before the coup he went himself to see Zuma, asking for the promised troops,” we were told.
The flights were booked and visas obtained, but hours before boarding we were told Bozizé had cancelled because he had to go to Burkina Faso urgently. “He is desperately trying to drum up support to go back home. That is his absolute priority,” Bozizé’s aide said. “Give him a week.”
In early August, our military intermediary sent an update: “I’m battling to make contact . . . Bozizé has a small window of opportunity to mobilise moral and real support to return to the CAR . . . He’s meeting with regional leaders, trying to get them to put pressure on the current leadership in the CAR to allow him to return to Bangui . . . He is making contact with military elements in the region for a potential future stryd [battle] against the Seleka rebels that overthrew him. He is busy with intense lobbying . . . once the African Union deploys a stabilising force, it will have a dire effect on his ability to return home.”
The next day a television journalist in Cameroon informed us that Bozizé would not be returning to that country. It would be “way too dangerous” because he faced an international arrest warrant for crimes against humanity and inciting violence, the journalist said. “He can’t come back. It will cause too many problems for Cameroon.”
A BBC reporter said “there is tension here with Bozizé-loyal troops who fled into Cameroon after the coup. They’re armed and they’re a domestic cause of concern for the Cameroonian government.” Destination Douala was abandoned.
Then reports appeared that he was considering flying to South Africa via Kenya but changed his mind at the last minute. On August 8, he suddenly surfaced in France. Three days later he was interviewed on Radio France Internationale about the launch of his new movement dedicated to reinstalling him as president of the CAR.
We contacted the movement’s spokesman, Adrien Poussau, who agreed to set up an interview.
Days later we met him at the nondescript Median Hotel in Paris. Nobody in the gloomy lobby recognised the man in the dark-blue, short-sleeved safari suit, another ousted African leader contemplating the loss of his country under the indifferent eyes of its former colonial master.