Low-grade paradise con

The mantra uttered every time you hear about the Seychelles is paradise.

Indeed, one of the great achievements of this mafia enclave has been to reduce all information broadcast to the outside world to one word: paradise.

The few who dare oppose the local chieftains include some real decent, committed highly principled people, who have plenty of reason to fear for their lives, and yet, who politely, calmly denounce the treachery the clique of robber barons engage in from their safe haven.

Imagine if you can the only country on planet earth, with the possible exception of North Korea, who has chosen to model it's food production on East Germany circa 1966. Imagine a president awash in rumours that none dare pronounce, the worst of which lays the blame for the murder of his own son right at his doorstep. Imagine, in the middle of paradise, a Dr Goldfinger, a slippery figure as only the tropics can produce, who still runs the joint from the shadows, and has managed to keep a lid on his operation since the day of the country's so-called independence. The genius of this man, Albert René by name, is to have kidnapped a country, to declare a Marxist uprising where none was wanted, and to run an entire country like a mafia enterprise. In the Seychelles, three Presidents are on full salary - the current henchman, ahem, honourable president Michel, the President for life in the shadows René, and the founding father playboy president, James Mancham, who brought the James Bond girls and soft porn star Emmanuel to paradise.

The star of Emmanuel lives just down the road here in Amsterdam, in a two room flat, where she lives off the monthly dole cheque issued by the Dutch government. So much for paradise.

Four hours by plane from the east coast of Africa is a long way to swim, so when you're stuck in these speckled micro stretches of territory, and the powers that run what is loosely termed a government decide you're not toeing the line, and not being loyal to the island...well, Zimbabwe isn't the only place where opposition leaders get their faces smashed in for daring to lead peaceful public assemblies. Just ask Wavel Ramkalawan, leader of the opposition who got his ass kicked a couple of months ago for daring to speak in public. And, it works, everybody's a little more careful since the opposition leader and the editor of the opposition newspaper had their heads kicked in. But, don't blame the natives for giving in, they're outnumbered, they're isolated, and the world at large is too busy scuba diving to notice that they're suffocating under the weight of the mafia crooks who have been pillaging their islands for thirty years running now. And, calling it a revolution.

There is a dark side to this country all right - nothing special beside the perfidy on the African continent, but still worth noting, for the marxist anti-colonialist hubris served up by the cultural ministry, for the Stalinist thugs, for the shameless buying of votes and bribery, for the shambles of a justice system, used principally to serve the political ends of the government.

When there's only 85,000 souls in paradise (that's 55,000 less than the Jehovah's promised), you get to meet all the players - especially when you've told them you're going to write a book on them. That gets their attention!