Election troubles in Guinea

 BY JEREMY LOOKABAUGH
                  STAFF
It is expected to be the country's first-ever democratic election, but as Guineans head to the polls to choose a leader after half a century of dictatorship, no one is celebrating.

There are no campaign speeches planned. No rallies, either. People have been warned not to wear their party colors. And throughout this ragged capital on Africa's western coast, billboards of the candidates have been defaced.

Instead of marking a milestone, many are awaiting Sunday's vote with dread. The excitement just months ago when the military agreed to stand down and let civilians hold elections has been replaced by fear of each other.

"Before we had a common enemy," says civil servant Frederic Soule Tinguiano, who has a Bible open on his desk and is observing the future of the tense vote. "Now that that enemy is gone, the enemy has become each other."

Ethnic divisions have always hovered just beneath the surface of Guinea's political life, kept under a lid by the country's successive leadership.

They have resurfaced with force now that Guinea’s ten million people can choose their next leader from rival candidates belonging to the country's two largest ethnic groups.

Both politicians are accused of using racial rhetoric to appeal to their voter base, setting the stage for a confrontation along ethnic lines if the results are not accepted by one of the parties.

"Ethnicity is the easiest thing for a politician to use to try to get votes. And by doing that they have brought us to the edge of a precipice," said Soule, an assistant director in the ministry charged with organizing the national census. "The vote should have been a cause for celebration, because the army has finally stepped down. Instead I feel like my country is going backwards."

Guineans acknowledge they are voting along ethnic lines, but say the tension between the two groups has become so acute that they fear what will happen to their community if their candidate does not win.

In the 52 years since winning independence from France, Guineans have suffered at the hands of their rulers, who left behind a country rich in bauxite and iron, but with so little electricity that children sit on freeway medians trying to study by the light of passing cars.

Government buildings are coated in black mold and weeds shoot out through cracks, yet the families of the former dictators live in rococo villas overlooking designer swimming pools.

Guinea's fate changed abruptly last year after an army-led massacre of civilians led to a dispute between the leader of the military junta and one of his bodyguards.

The bodyguard opened fire on Capt. Moussa 'Dadis' Camara, injuring him and forcing him to leave the country for emergency surgery.