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meet Equatorial Guinea's Teodoro Obiang, and decide for yourself. Oh, and be sure not to overlook the Big Oil tie-in... http://www.slate.com/id/2193870Obiang, who seized power in 1979, had promised to be kinder and gentler than his predecessor, but in the 1990s, even the U.S. ambassador to Equatorial Guinea received a death threat from a regime insider, the ambassador has said, and had to be evacuated. Not long after that, offshore oil was discovered, but the first wave of revenues—about $700 million—was transferred into secret accounts under Obiang's personal control. The latest chapter, written in the last month, may be the least surprising, because Obiang's ruling party won 99 of the 100 seats in legislative elections. A government press release, hailing Obiang as the "Militant Brother Founding President of the PDGE," carried the headline, "Democracy at Its Peak in Equatorial Guinea."
If you haven't heard any of this, don't worry; as far as I can tell, the only American journalist who has reported on Obiang's electoral theft is Ken Silverstein, who writes for Harper's and has for many years poured out a primal scream of investigative reports into Obiang's misrule. Other than Silverstein's recent postings and several wire-service stories that were not picked up in America, there has been a vacuum of coverage about a suppression of democracy in Africa that is more complete than what Mugabe is trying to get away with. True, Equatorial Guinea is a small country with a population of less than 1 million, its economy is expanding in an oil boom, and Obiang's "victory" did not require the obvious and crude violence of Mugabe's ongoing terror. But Obiang's enforcers don't need to club people on the streets. His would-be opponents are too frightened to openly demonstrate against him. His is the Switzerland of dictatorships—so effective at enforcing obedience that the spectacle of unrest is invisible.
The reality of the regime's brutishness nearly hit me over the head as I was being expelled from the country while researching a book on oil in 2004. I had already been chilled by the docility of the people—unlike other countries in the Third World, no one approached me as I walked the streets. (The only place where I had felt a similar pattern of fear was North Korea.) After I had been in Equatorial Guinea for a bit more than a week, the minister of information, Alfonso Nsue Mokuy, summoned me to the patio of the Bahia Hotel, where Frederick Forsyth had written The Dogs of War, and told me I was an anti-Obiang agitator or a spy—he wasn't sure which. I would be on the next plane out of the country, he said. One of his aides escorted me to the airport, and soon after we arrived, the minister showed up and rifled through my bags, seizing memory chips and notes, accusing me of being a spy (he had concluded I was not an agitator), and threatening to take me downtown for a real Obiang-style interrogation.
To understand what happened next, and to understand a crucial reason why we hear little about Obiang, you need to know that since oil was found in the country's waters in the Gulf of Guinea, ExxonMobil, Marathon Oil, Chevron, and other firms have invested more than $10 billion to extract the treasure, transforming Equatorial Guinea into the third-largest energy exporter in sub-Saharan Africa. But the first wave of revenues seemed to disappear—the people of Equatorial Guinea remained as poor, ill-housed, uneducated, and unhealthy as ever. Rather than putting the money into a transparent government account and using the proceeds for social services, Obiang hoarded it in accounts he personally controlled at Riggs Bank in Washington, D.C. An investigation by the SEC led to millions of dollars in money-laundering fines against Riggs, but Obiang was not charged. In fact, things only got sweeter. In 2006, he was invited to Washington and met Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, who called him a "good friend."With friends like that... :puke:
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