Penguins, talking zoo animals and a wildly inappropriate king lemur are probably your first thoughts when you think of Madagascar.
The real history of the country is equally fascinating, although less amusing.
This is the story of one Didier Ratsiraka. Ratsiraka ruled Madagascar for a total of 23 years between 1975 and 2002. Getting him to leave power turned out to be harder than getting pee out of a public swimming pool.
The man himself, at the peak of his powers. Image from Wikipedia
Ratsiraka was born on 4 November 1936 to a well to do family: Pops was an official in the French colonial government.
After attending private schools and then the French naval academy, he served as a military attaché at the Madagascan Embassy in Paris.
This is exactly the kind of life of pomp and privilege that connections buy. Indeed, being connected meant that it wasn't long before he was appointed as Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1972 at 36 years old.
Ratsiraka addressing the media in 1972. Image from The Telegraph
Following that trend, Ratsiraka was appointed (not elected) President by the army in 1975. At the time, democratic institutions in Madagascar were about as strong as Clark Kent curling kryptonite dumbbells.
Not exactly a happy looking chap, suave as he was. Image from Facebook
Ratsiraka was known as "the Red Admiral" or “Deba", meaning "Big Man".
And as a Big Man is precisely how he governed.
Ratsiraka practised a brand of socialism so on steroids you'd have thought it was a South American football player.
He introduced the Red Book (a nod to Chairman Mao) which essentially became the holy grail of his political philosophy. The Red Book set out how Madagascar’s political, economic and social project would play out.
This thing is available on Amazon, believe it or not.
Ratsiraka also introduced a new Constitution containing so much socialism Karl Marx may as well have been its ghostwriter.
Banks, farms and factories were nationalised. In fact by the late 1970s, 91 percent of Madagascar businesses were owned by the government.
And I mean, what could go wrong?
Answer: everything.
Rare image of Karl Marx penning Das Kapital. Yes, I know…
The socialist experiment started failing pretty quickly.
As import quotas took effect, local industry struggled to keep up with demand. Inflation made like an eagle and soared. This in turn led to massive capital flight as investors pulled their moola out of the cowntry.
To make matters worse, the government's ambitious infrastructure and social projects turned out to be as productive as an African uncle during the preparation of Christmas lunch. Ratsiraka's regime was forced to borrow cash to fund them, which is pretty much like pouring gasoline on a raging bonfire.
Unsurprisingly, riots followed as citizens' frustration with the regime grew.
Ratsiraka defiantly argued that these uneducated simpletons simply didn't understand what he was trying to do.
Mans was kind of vindicated though. In the 1982 election, Ratsiraka won the election with 80% of the vote.
To show just how much of a good sport he was, Ratsiraka arrested individuals who had been accused of trying to unseat the government and paraded them through the streets.
And then things got weird.
In August 1984, the Ministry of Youth and Sports banned the practice of Kung-Fu. Apparently, the martial art form was closely linked to government opposition.
In retaliation, several Kung Fu clubs - made up mostly of unemployed youths - linked to Christian churches (yes, you read that right) got properly pissed off and set fire to the house of the Minister of Youth and Sports.
In addition, these cats raided villages and robbed homes. Not exactly in keeping with church philosophy.
Well, actually…
Anyway, the unrest came to a head in December 1984. There was fierce fighting between rival youth groups whereafter army units swooped in, killing 200 youngsters whom they later buried in mass graves.
That didn’t sort out Ratsiraka’s problems, however.
In the 1988 election Ratsiraka’s majority slid even further to “just” 62%. The election itself was viewed as a sham. Critics said they were only held to get goodwill from the Pope who was visiting that year.
At any rate, 2 short years later, unrest began again.
In May 1990, dissidents seized a radio building and declared a retired army general as the head of state. As always, the army was called in.
The crowd fought back, leaving 1 soldier dead.
By 1991, the pressure on Ratsiraka had mounted to the point that he changed the constitution to remove even the slightest mention of socialism. Sorry, Marx.
The people weren’t satisfied with this. More riots and demonstrations ensued, bringing life to a standstill. In August, Ratsiraka’s bodyguards fired into a crowd of 400,000 demonstrators outside his house.
That went how you’d expect and Ratsiraka was forced into hiding.
Somehow the French were able to find him. The croissant-eaters negotiated an agreement under which Ratsiraka would stay in power for 18 more months. Elections would be held thereafter.
18 months later…Ratsiraka lost the elections.
Albert Zafy, a staunch Ratsiraka critic, won 66% of the vote and ascended to the Presidency.
Albert Zafy. My mans was often caricatured as sleeping on the job. Unfortunate but, sadly, true. Image from Mshana News.
And if fumbling the bag was a person, it would be Zafy. Actually, his problem was that he couldn’t keep his paws off the bag. His administration was marked by allegations of corruption and abuse of power.
“Allegations” is putting it mildly. Zafy stripped Parliament of some of its key duties and as the economy declined further, Zafy was impeached in July 1996.
And just like a COVID variant, Ratsiraka was back. Returning from exile in France, he won the 1996 elections, called the old interior designer and moved back into the State House.
Clearly our mans learned nothing from his time in the cold. Ratsiraka tried to increase the powers of the President almost as soon as his term started, surviving an attempted impeachment in the process.
But I guess he’d shown his hand and reminded people why they’d gotten rid of him in the first place. In the 2001 elections, Ratsiraka was defeated by Marc Ravalomanana.
I’ve actually written about Marc Ravolamanana’s post-election shenanigans before. Image from the Madagascar Tribune.
Ratsiraka once again retreated into (self-imposed) exile. His final destination was France via the Seychelles, which on face value, doesn’t land on the side of the “dream vacation - fleeing political persecution” spectrum that I think he’d hoped.
Ratsiraka’s “exile” coincidentally was carried out just before revelations emerged that he had stolen almost $8 million from the state bank. He was later sentenced, in absentia, to 10 years of hard labour.
It would be almost a decade until Ratsiraka returned to Madagascar. By that time, the political dispensation had changed and nobody gave 2 farts about a has-been politician who’d committed petty theft 10 years earlier.
In November 2011, Ratsiraka was filmed disembarking a plane, kissing the ground and doing press ups. The last part was kind of unnecessary but I guess it showed that the old timer still had it.
You can’t see any faces but somehow you can sense the disbelief from the onlookers. Image from madablog.com
Ratsiraka would go on to play the role of elder statesman, urging unity, writing books and doing talks. All that jazz. Sadly, any hopes of a third presidency were dashed.
On 28 March 2021, Ratsiraka passed away at the age of 84.
The moral of the story is that if you get a second chance, try not to do the same things that ruined your first chance.
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