About two thousand years ago, Pliny the Elder famously pronounced “ex Africa semper aliquid novi” — “there is always something new out of Africa”.
Nowadays, that great Roman author, naturalist and military commander would be more likely to say, “there’s always someone old running Africa”.
Alassane Ouattara, having changed the constitution to remove term limits, is campaigning again for president of Ivory Coast in October at the age of 83, after 25 years in office.
Not to be outdone, Paul Biya in Cameroon is seeking an eighth term as president at 92, having run the place for 43 years. That makes Biya the current world record holder for the longest current rule for a non-royal, a title he holds by only a few months from the notorious 83-year-old Teodoro Obiang Nguema, who still clings to power in Equatorial Guinea.
The continental gerontocracy doesn’t stop there: 82-year-old Denis Sassou Nguesso has been in charge of the Republic of Congo for all but five of the past 46 years; Yoweri Museveni, a poster child for African democracy in the 1980s, is now in his 80s and still the ruthless boss in Kampala; Joseph Boakai of Liberia is also 80; Emerson Mnangagwa in Zimbabwe is 82 — and he replaced Robert Mugabe who was 93 when he finally left office.
Abdelmadjid Tebboune of Algeria is 79, as is Isaias Afwerki, who has controlled Eritrea since independence in 1994. Ismaïl Omar Guelleh of nearby Djibouti is 77 and has been president for 26 years.
And, in our neighbourhood, Jacob Zuma still dreams of power at 83. All of which makes Cyril a spring chicken at 72.
Mandela example ignored
It’s worth remembering that Nelson Mandela was 80 when he stepped down after one term – an example he hoped would spread through Africa, but sadly didn’t.
While we do specialise in elderly leaders on this continent – a rough Wiki count gives me 20 over the age of 70 in 50 mainland African states – we have to acknowledge that there’s form in this elsewhere at the moment.
Donald Trump was the oldest American president on Inauguration Day this year at 78, and his rival Joe Biden would have been 85 by the time he finished the second term he so vainly sought. (Ronald Reagan, who, to me, seemed ancient when he took office in 1981, was actually only 69.)
Demanding leadership roles currently are held in the Middle East by Mahmoud Abbas of the Palestinian Authority at 89 and Ali Khamenei, the Supreme Leader of Iran, who is 86. And the granddaddy of this lot, Mahathir Mohammad of Malaysia, was prime minister at 94 and is still politically active at 100.
It’s fashionable to label any criticism of venerable politicians as ageism … “age is only a number” and other clichés. That’s nonsense. Few, if any of these men – and it is always men – have the energy and the relevance to run modern governments. Their existence in power reflects poorly on the systems that produce and maintain them. I find it bizarre that the US presidency has a constitutional floor (you must be 35 to get the job) but no ceiling.
These aged rulers cling to power because they can. Delusion that they alone have the answers (“L’état c’est moi” stuff) is often a factor. As is an undemocratic notion that the position is their entitlement forever (I used to get much amusement from the oxymoronic title given to Baby Doc Duvalier after he was removed from power in Haiti; “former president-for-life”).
There’s also fear of retribution if they give up power, or a fear of losing power’s trappings, or a fear of powerless irrelevance – Winston Churchill had to be shoved out of No 10 Downing Street in 1955 at the age of 80, an event his wife Clementine described as “for him, a death in life”.
Sometimes, decrepit leaders are propped up as puppets by their inner circles, who are really pulling the strings and wish to remain in control. 82-year-old Abdelaziz Bouteflika of Algeria remained president for two years up to 2019 while he was in a French clinic and did not make a public or media appearance in that time. Two recent presidents of Nigeria were also incommunicado for months while in Europe receiving medical treatment.
In Africa, there are also complicated cultural weaves about exaggerated respect for elders, which somehow means you can never tell them honestly that it is time to go.
It’s unsurprising, therefore, that the hottest African leader at the moment among the continent’s chattering classes is a complete outlier, as currently the youngest head of state in the world.
Burkina Faso’s media-savvy, soldier-king, the 37-year-old Ibrahim Traoré, took power in a coup two years ago and has cast himself as an anti-colonial revolutionary figure. At any gathering of African leaders, he stands out with his youthful dynamism and charismatic presence.
But my pessimistic hunch is that Traoré is no different from the rest and in 2068, when he will be a mere 81, he will be well on track to break Paul Biya’s depressing political longevity record. DM