A BIT like President Donald Trump, Tanzania’s president, John Magufuli, likes to fire employees on television. In November Mr Magafuli used a live broadcast from a small town in the north of the country summarily to dismiss two officials after they failed to remember instantly details in their budgets. When one protested that she couldn’t reasonably be expected to be able to recall every figure, Mr Magufuli told her, “You can’t talk to me like that.”
Sacking minor officials in front of an audience is only one part of Mr Magufuli’s authoritarian populism. Since coming to power in the country of 55m on the east coast of Africa in 2015, Mr Magufuli, nicknamed “the bulldozer” from his time as roads minister, has bashed foreign-owned businesses with impossible tax demands, ordered pregnant g
Bouteflika, hanging on
TO ALGERIANS, Abdelaziz Bouteflika is like Schrodinger’s cat: simultaneously alive and dead until his actual state has been observed. Occasionally Mr Bouteflika, the 81-year-old president of Algeria, who has suffered at least one bad stroke, is rolled out in his wheelchair for an appearance. In October, for example, he met Dmitry Medvedev, the Russian prime minister. A short video of the encounter showed Mr Bouteflika staring blankly into the distance and mumbling a few words. Behind the scenes, a clique of military officers and economic officials actually runs the country.
Mr Bouteflika is indicative of the decrepit state of the region’s politics. Of the 18 Arab countries and territories, nearly a third are ruled by old men in terminal decline. They are a stark c
THE shifting sands of the Sahara have long been crossed by trade and smuggling routes. Traffickers send people and drugs north over the desert. But they have a problem: what to put in the empty trucks going back? The answer—pasta.
Some informed sources reckon that, apart from people, by weight pasta is probably the most smuggled product to cross the desert. Drug trafficking and gunrunning may earn fatter margins. But many smugglers diversify their load by pushing penne.
In part the trade is fuelled by subsidies in places such as Algeria, which spends about $28bn a year keeping down the price of food and energy. In Libya, which still subsidises food prices, even if somewhat erratically because of the civil war, 500g of pasta can be bought for 15-25 American cents. The same bag of pasta
“WE FEEL so hungry,” says Agatha Khasiala, a Kenyan housekeeper, grumbling about the price of meat and fish. She has recently moved in with her daughter because “the cost of everything is very high”. The data back her up. The World Bank publishes rough estimates of price levels in different countries, showing how far a dollar would stretch if converted into local currency. On this measure, Kenya is more expensive than Poland.
This is surprising. The cost of living is generally higher in richer places, a phenomenon best explained by the economists Bela Balassa and Paul Samuelson. They distinguished between goods that can be traded internationally and many services, like hairdressing, that cannot. In rich countries, manufacturing is highly productive, allowing firms to pay high wages and
But not this one
BARINGO county, in Kenya’s Rift Valley, is a hard place. Water is short in the dusty bush, so businesses tend not to thrive. But one industry is booming. At the edge of Mogotio, a town of roadside shops, hundreds of donkeys graze along the road. They are waiting to be sold for slaughter at the local abattoir. Next to a lorry, a woman in a shimmering dress says she has brought 100 donkeys from Moyale, two days’ drive north. She expects to make several thousand dollars from the sale.
Across Africa, donkeys are used as beasts of labour. Most Kenyans turn up their noses at the idea of eating them. But Chinese entrepreneurs have opened a new market. In China donkey skins are used to make a gelatine, called ejiao, that is used as traditional medicine. The meat is also a delic
ABDEL-FATTAH AL-SISI, Egypt’s president, could not ask for a better mouthpiece than Khairy Ramadan, a talk-show host. When activists started a Twitter campaign to mock the president, Mr Ramadan proposed banning the social network. And like Mr Sisi he calls the revolution of 2011, when the previous strongman, Hosni Mubarak, was overthrown, a foreign plot.
But during his show on February 18th, Mr Ramadan talked of a police colonel who earns 4,600 pounds ($261) per month. To supplement his income, the colonel’s wife sought work as a cleaner. Mr Ramadan, who confessed to having a “soft spot” for the notoriously brutal cops, wondered why they were paid so little. He can now ask them directly. Apparently seen as disrespectful, on March 3rd he was arrested.
Later this month Egyptians will go
BOUHDID BELHEDI is not easily intimidated. The campaigner for LGBT rights has been assaulted by Islamic extremists outside his house in Tunis and beaten by a mob as a policeman watched. Since helping to launch Shams Rad, an online radio station catering to LGBT people, he has received thousands of online threats and insults.
The station, which began broadcasting out of Tunisia in December, is the first of its kind in the Arab world. It is on six days a week and reaches 10,000 people in 15 countries, according to Shams, the Tunisian group behind the effort. The Dutch embassy provides funding. The aim is to create a space to talk about LGBT issues that is not “dominated by imams”, says Mounir Baatour of Shams.
The challenge is staying within the law. Anal sex is punishable by up to three
IT ALMOST feels like old times. Before Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait in 1990, Gulf Arabs partied on the banks of the Shatt al-Arab river in southern Iraq. Many owned villas in the fields around Basra and took Iraqi wives. Now, after a break of three decades, they are back. Saudi Arabia is putting the finishing touches on a consulate in Basra’s Sheraton hotel, where Iraqi crooners sing love songs and waiters dance. Last month a dozen Saudi poets travelled to Basra for a literary festival.
Air links between Saudi Arabia and Iraq have also resumed, with 140 flights each month. Several state-owned businesses, including SABIC, the Saudi petrochemical giant, are registering offices in Baghdad. At a conference in Kuwait last month, the Saudi foreign minister, Adel al-Jubeir, pledged $1bn in lo
Khama, a cool and collected authoritarian
WHEN Ian Khama steps down at the end of the month, after ten years as president, he will leave his country looking perky. Mr Khama has been lavished with praise as he makes a series of farewell sorties around the country. At a recent gathering of farmers, he was “gifted with 35 cattle, a bull, two sheep and goats, a horse, and shares worth 25,000 pula [$2,628] at Tlou Energy”, a coal-development company, according to the pro-government Daily News.
The statistics paint a pretty picture, too. In its annual report card on African governments, the Mo Ibrahim Foundation regularly ranks Botswana near the top. At independence in 1966 it was one of the world’s poorest places, with “only 7km of tarred road and a capital, Gaborone, that amounted to little
“THE land resettlement was a huge success in terms of our people, 367,000 of our people, back in possession of the land,” says President Emmerson Mnangagwa of the expropriation of most of Zimbabwe’s white-owned farmland since 2000—a move that wrecked the economy and pushed millions into poverty. Was it fair that bigwigs of his ruling Zanu-PF party took several farms each? “No, no, it is one farm, one person,” he says. “I have 404 hectares and I paid for the equipment myself.”
Mr Mnangagwa admits, however, that Zimbabwe “became almost a country without friends” under Robert Mugabe, who was ejected in a coup last year. Now “Zimbabwe is open for business,” says Mr Mnangagwa, speaking in his home in Borrowdale, the poshest suburb of Harare, the capital.
Stockily built, with watchful hooded ey