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Idi Amin's Exile Dream
August 21, 2003
By RICCARDO ORIZIO
NAIROBI, Kenya
The Idi Amin I met in 1997 was unchanged from the
Big Daddy" of Uganda
who, in the 1970's, was proud of being the most feared
leader in Africa. It was hot that day in Jidda, the Saudi
Arabian resort city he had been living in since 1980. A big
man with a raucous voice and strangely protuberant eyes, he
was dressed in a white tunic, speaking loudly in his broken
English. He talked just as he had ruled: walking the thin
rope that separates madness from political satire, the
tragic from the comic.
I knew he had spent the previous years taking a morning
swim in the pool of the local Hilton, having his back
massaged by an Egyptian masseur at the Intercontinental,
and finally having lunch at a third hotel. It was a life
spent in the lobby, with suitcases packed for a journey
that never happened.
A friend of a friend had finally taken me to his home. The
villa - the average white building where the average Saudi
millionaire lives - was full of the sounds of domesticity:
a baby crying, women chatting, food being prepared.
"I'm still on top of things, I'm still a man of influence,"
he told me, and to prove the point he started flicking the
remote control of his satellite TV, going from a Congolese
station to a Libyan one. "I'm still following international
affairs," he boasted, finally switching to CNN.
"Do you have any regrets, Mr. president?" I asked. And the
man who killed at least 300,000 Ugandans, who had the
Anglican bishop of Kampala assassinated and dumped on the
side of a road, and who had several of his own ministers
thrown to the crocodiles of Lake Victoria, placidly
replied, with his trademark Big Smile: "No, only
nostalgia." I asked how he wanted to be remembered.
Apparently recalling his boxing days, he replied, "Just as
a great athlete."
It's called the banality of evil. Idi Amin was never an
exceptional person. As someone said, you have to be a great
man to do great good, but even an imbecile can do great
evil. You just need to be in the right place at the right
time. Idi Amin was a former cook of a British colonial
regiment who happened to be among the few Ugandans with
military experience when his country became independent.
He was guilty of great atrocities, of course. But an entire
generation of African leaders was guilty, too. The
difference is that Idi Amin did what he did in a
transparent way: the mayhem and the horror, but also the
famous photograph of white businessmen forced to carry him
on his chair; his satirical wedding ceremony in front of a
huge portrait of Queen Elizabeth II of England; his
repeated claims to the throne of Scotland. When asked about
allegations of cannibalism, instead of denying it he
answered: "I don't like human flesh. It's too salty for
me."
He had an unconscious genius for political theater, mocking
the grand statesmen of the era with telegrams full of
condescending words. To Henry Kissinger: "You are not
intelligent because you never come to see me when you need
advice." To the queen: "I hear that England has economic
problems. I'm sending a cargo ship full of bananas to thank
you for the good days of the colonial administration." To
Leonid Brezhnev and Mao Zedong: "If you need a mediator I
am at your disposal."
On Saturday Idi Amin died in his Saudi exile. Africa is a
different place than when he left it, but not necessarily
better. There are fewer buffoons, but still many devils on
the continent. Along with Jean-Bedel Bokassa, the
self-proclaimed emperor of the Central African Republic,
Idi Amin represented the simpler days when the West could
believe that Africa's problem was a handful of mad
dictators. We now know we were wrong.
Most Liberians, for instance, are cynical - or experienced
- enough to understand that life will be tough even with
Charles Taylor departed. Likewise, at their current stage
of national decay, Zimbabweans know that to send Robert
Mugabe away is only half of the solution: who will restore
the economy once he's gone?
To send a tyrant into foreign asylum doesn't necessarily
help his victims. As for the tyrants themselves, they know
that a little luxury and a quiet death in a foreign city
cannot match the real prize given the dictator who manages
to hang on, physically or politically: rehabilitation.
Think of Muammar el-Qaddafi of Libya. In the 1980's America
lobbed missiles at his presidential tent, yet today he is a
relative pillar of stability in a difficult region. Or even
"Baby Doc" Duvalier of Haiti: powerless, yes, but from his
home in France he can rightly claim that his former domain
is in worse shape than it was 20 years ago, and know that
many Haitians agree.
Such men know that time heals and that the world tends to
forget, if not to forgive. A surprising number of Ugandans
were in favor of allowing Idi Amin back into the country to
die.
And wherever he is hiding, Saddam Hussein knows that the
last word in Iraq has not been said. A return to Bagdhad is
very unlikely, but one suspects he'd like to be around if
and when a post-Saddam situation devolves into total chaos.
He chose not to be a villain sipping wine around a swimming
pool - he clearly wants to die a hero, even if a defeated
one. While such a wish may sound absurd to us, Idi Amin
would have understood.
Riccardo Orizio is author of "The Devil: Encounters With
Seven Dictators."
http://www.nytimes.com/2003/08/21/opinion/21ORIZ.html?ex=1062495915&ei=1&en=b2336caa262a5ec1
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