A New, Five-Year (?) Government

Ever since May, when Moise Tshombe emerged from nationwide parliamentary elections as the most dazzling politician in the Congo, he and President Joseph Kasavubu had been locked in battle for the presidency. All the while, there was a third man in the ring --Major General Joseph Mobutu, 35, who as army commander was the only Congolese powerful enough to referee.

Last week Referee Mobutu abruptly ended the match and proclaimed him self winner and new President. While he was about it, Mobutu deposed Kasavubu, canceled the upcoming presidential election and decreed for himself a five-year term as head of a "regime of exception."

It was a bloodless coup. No tanks rumbled through the streets, nobody was arrested or shot, no special patrols were dispatched to maintain the peace. Mobutu simply ordered the government radio station in Leopoldville to broadcast his proclamation, then sent a delegation of staff officers over to the presidential palace to ask Kasavubu to start packing, followed that up with a formal letter offering him a permanent seat in the Congolese Senate. "The race for the top is finished," Mobutu declared. "Our political leaders had engaged in a sterile struggle to grab power without consideration for the welfare of the citizens. Political bank ruptcy was complete. We are going to change that and try to impose everywhere the spirit of discipline."

Forest of Banners. What bothered Mobutu was the dangerous direction in which the struggle had been leading the nation. Police Boss Victor Nendaka had begun banning anti-Kasavubu newspapers and mounting a hate-campaign that seemed to aim toward Tshombe's arrest. Worse, to gain leftist support, Kasavubu had restored relations with the Peking-oriented Brazzaville Congo across the river, was cozying up to Ghana's Kwame Nkrumah, and had promised to kick out the white mercenary troops that were the muscle of Mobutu's Congolese army.

The final blow came early last week when the Kasavubu government organized a "spontaneous demonstration" of leftist youths, who burned homemade Belgian flags, marched up Leo-poldville's broad Boulevard du 30 Juin under a forest of banners ("Long Live Nkrumah and Kasavubu," "Down with the Yankees," "Tshombe to the Firing Squad"), and tried to break into Parliament. The army arrested the ringleaders, but when Nendaka's police promptly set them free, Mobutu decided that it was time to step in. He summoned his 14 regional commanders to Leopoldville, where in a conference that lasted until 1:30 a.m., they decided that Kasavubu had to go. "This is not a military coup," claimed Mobutu. "The army is merely fulfilling its responsibilities to the nation."

Military Hero. Coup or not, it was the second time that "Jumping Joe" Mobutu, a sometime paratrooper and former sergeant in the Belgian army, had tried it. Five years ago, in the midst of a racking feud between Kasavubu and leftist Premier Patrice Lumumba, he had "neutralized" them both by seizing power on behalf of a "college of commissioners." But his army withdrew its full support, and Mobutu, then only 30 years old, was forced to retire after four hectic months.

There is, of course, no guarantee that he will last longer this time, but he seemed at least to be off to a good start. With solid army backing, he announced that Kasavubu's Cabinet would be replaced by a civilian "government of national union"--including one minister from each of the Congo's 21 provinces and Leopoldville. To head it, he called on Belgian-trained Colonel Leonard Mulamba, 37, the Congolese army's ablest combat officer (TIME, Sept. 4, 1964), whose honest, progressive rule as military governor of the northeastern Congo has made him a popular nationwide hero.

Immunized Loser. Mulamba got right down to business. With an efficiency unprecedented in Congolese politics, he called in delegations from every province, gave each half an hour to submit a list of ministerial candidates, then retired to select his Cabinet.

The coup brought enraged howls from leftist Africa and Red China, but no one inside the Congo seemed at all alarmed. Kasavubu accepted his Senate seat. Nendaka wired his congratulations to Mobutu. "We shall have to study this very carefully," said Tshombe, and his party called the move "an act of heroism." And as for Kasavubu's deposed Premier-designate, Evariste Kimba, he showed up beaming in his regular back-bench seat in Parliament, allowed "as a democrat" that the coup had been "for the good of the nation." Added Kimba philosophically: "This is not my first shock in politics. You might say I'm immunized."

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