Rebel without a cause
ONCE again, Jonas Savimbi is pushing to the brink of war the beleaguered, potentially rich country he professes to love. Exasperated by the Angolan rebel leader's delaying tactics, the UN says it will slap new sanctions on his UNITA movement on July 1st unless he implements the provisions of the 1994 peace accord. The sanctions would include a freeze on the assets of rebel leaders, an embargo on buying diamonds mined by UNITA, and a ban on the delivery of vehicles and mining equipment to rebel-held land.
Will this threat bring UNITA to heel? There is no sign of it. On June 6th, Mr Savimbi is reported to have told his supporters in Bailundo, his stronghold in the central highlands, that UN sanctions would be regarded as an attack on UNITA to which it is "ready to respond". In fact, UNITA has been responding for some time.
In recent weeks, the rebels have attacked civilians, UN observers and army positions. Aid workers have been fired at, UN staff detained, and regions that had been handed over to the government have been reoccupied. UN officials report repeated attacks in Huambo and Benguela, and confirm the presence of UNITA troops "deployed in formations" through the heart of the country. Although the government's security forces have also done terrible and brutal things, the UN's secretary-general, Kofi Annan, puts the blame clearly on Mr Savimbi for a situation which has now reached a "critical" stage.
The worsening military scene has left President Jose Eduardo dos Santos's government threatening retaliation, the troika of observer countries—America, Russia and Portugal—despairing, and the UN threatening to pull out its remaining 1,200 soldiers, military observers and police. Nearly four years after a peace was signed in Zambia's capital, Lusaka, wide tracts of the country remain no-go areas, and at least 1m Angolans are still listed as displaced.
Mr Savimbi has failed to implement the accord in two major ways. By last April, all rebel land was supposed to have been handed over to the government's administration. It wasn't and still isn't, despite UN threats of action. Mr Savimbi remains hunkered down in the central highlands, around the towns of Nharea, Mungo, Andulo and Bailundo, the symbolic capital of his Ovimbundu people. With him are his most hawkish advisers: Armindo Paulo Lukamba, known as "Gato", and the man behind UNITA's security, General "Bock" Altino Bango Sapalalo.
Mr Savimbi's second big breach of the agreement is his refusal to leave the central highlands to take up his position as opposition leader in Luanda. He says he fears for his safety. But dozens of UNITA men sit in the National Assembly, and four UNITA ministers and seven deputy ministers serve in the government of national unity.
The government, meanwhile, is anxious to apply the only pressure it believes Mr Savimbi understands: force. With the dry season well under way, there are fears that Angola's official army will see international condemnation of Mr Savimbi as an invitation to pounce.