The rebels tightened their choke hold last week and Doe’s bloody rule seemed near an end. The insurgents, led by former Doe ally Charles Taylor, were just outside Monrovia, pushing the capital toward anarchy. Taylor’s National Patriotic Front already controls about a quarter of the country. Doe, who seized power in a coup 10 years ago and lives in the mansion where he murdered his predecessor, has few allies left beyond his guards and his fellow tribesmen. But many Liberians feared that Doe was so surrounded by sycophants that he didn’t understand how bad his situation was. Doe had lost control of the Army. At the front, soldiers were abandoning their positions and hundreds were deserting. There were no obvious trenches or other defensive positions being prepared around the capital. The president tried to rally support from a crowd of diplomats and church leaders, but, said one envoy, “He wasn’t on the same planet as the rest of us.”
The U.S. State Department, which has refused Doe’s requests for arms and ruled out any military intervention, tried to broker an end to the bloodshed. Taylor, who at first said there was “no way out” unless Doe was captured or killed, modified his position slightly, saying he would allow Doe to leave the country. That left it to Washington to persuade Doe to flee. But many Liberians who oppose Doe are equally wary of his rival. Taylor was accused of embezzling nearly $1 million in government funds during his years as a civil servant. And though he has said elections will be held within five years of a takeover, he conceded he “may feel uncomfortable” leaving the top post to somebody else.
Even if Doe agrees to leave peacefully–and soon–there is little prospect of an orderly transition. Many feared Taylor’s troops would slaughter their political enemies. They also dreaded an escalation of the tribal hatred that has fueled the civil war. Both sides have committed atrocities against civilians. Before dawn Wednesday, Krahn soldiers stormed a United Nations compound where several hundred Gio and Mano people had sought refuge. They abducted about 30 men at gunpoint and sprayed at least one group with gunfire. A 25-year-old man survived. “There was blood all over,” he recalled. “I was lying on my stomach and praying to God not to let them shoot me another time.” With a bullet hole through his back and stomach, he walked and crawled to a hospital run by Protestant missionaries.
Doe later visited the U.N. compound to reassure the panicking crowd that he would protect them. But his words were hollow. The same group had received a similar pledge from a government minister just a day before the killings. “Tomorrow it could be me disappearing,” cried one woman. “Tomorrow could be my mother, tomorrow could be my father, my brothers, my sisters.” U.N. Secretary-General Javier Perez de Cuellar ordered the withdrawal of all 11 international U.N. staff members from the country. (UN officials said they planned to return when the war ended.)
Turned away: The U.N. pullout terrified thousands of Liberians. Already turned I away by embassies. many Gio and Mano l fled to churches. “We slept here last night and there were soldiers around,” said George Weamie, a 28-year-old Gio staying at St. Peter’s Lutheran Church. “If there’s another attack, w hat will the U.N. have to say then?” Worse still, a U.N. food-distribution program for more than 30,000 displaced people in Monrovia was canceled a day before its start. “People aren’t going to starve,” said relief-team leader Terry Lewis as he prepared to depart. “But they will be hungry.” Hundreds of Liberians flocked to embassies for visas last week even as several airlines suspended their flights. Trucks loaded with people and furniture headed northwest toward Sierra Leone.
Washington dispatched the U.S. Navy’s Sixth Fleet. Four ships, with 2,100 Marines, steamed toward Liberia to evacuate Americans if their lives were threatened. The U.S. Embassy has already sent about 500 Peace Corps workers and families of diplomats out of the country. An additional 2,000 or so Americans could go next.
Still, the one person whose departure would make the largest difference remained. “Tough times don’t last forever but tough men last a long time,” Doe told a crowd on the balcony of his mansion. Yet the strain was clearly wearing on him. Late in the week he told a press conference that he’d survived more than 35 coup attempts and two invasions and was tired of running the country. “Let some other people try,” he said, “let somebody else be harassed.” Doe pledged he would not run for re-election. With the rebels closing in, that was a tragic understatement.
