A Place Called Djibouti #
One of my favorite things about The Economist is that it runs stories about places I almost never hear about. This week they have a story on the civil war in the tiny Comoro Islands, and one about Djibouti. About the tiny east African country:
After independence, Djibouti’s two ethnic groups, the Issas (who are ethnic Somalis) and the Afars drifted into Djibouti city. Most swapped a nomadic life of herding goats and cattle for long heat-haze afternoons chewing qat, a narcotic leaf flown in from Ethiopia. But things began to change when Eritrean independence cut Ethiopia off from the sea. Since then, almost all Ethiopia’s trade has been shipped through Djibouti, some of it on a rickety railway linking it to Addis Ababa. The bullish—some say bullying—thinking of Djibouti’s current president, Ismail Guelleh, a protégé and nephew of Mr Gouled first elected in 1999, has also helped pep things up. His slogan on billboards throughout the town is “Nous croyons” (We believe).
In what? Well, in Dubai. He wants Djibouti to follow the example of the booming gulf emirate or perhaps even of Malaysia, a Muslim model where many children of Djibouti’s elite head for university. Dubai Ports now runs Djibouti’s upgraded port. The economy may grow by nearly 6% this year, though unemployment is high and the IMF is unhappy with the government’s shoddy fiscal management. Businessmen say the port’s improvements make it hard to imagine that Eritrea’s Massawa, Somaliland’s Berbera or Somalia’s Bossaso will catch up soon. Some talk of turning the city’s scorching seafront into “St Tropez in the Horn”.