IN palmier times, the leader of the Wagner group, Yevgeny Prigozhin, appeared at a Russian cultural centre in the capital of the Central African Republic, sitting with schoolchildren and promising them free laptops.
But Prigozhin’s death in August has rattled the mercenary group’s once-cozy relations with the country, which is now weighing offers from Russia and Western countries, including the United States, to replace Wagner as its primary security guarantor.
The outcome of this struggle could be a bellwether for the group’s future on the continent, where the Central African Republic is perhaps the most deeply enmeshed among the handful of African nations partnering with Wagner.
The Russian Defence Ministry has sought to absorb some of Wagner’s activities while preserving its influence and maintaining its wealth of knowledge about the continent. But a senior Western diplomat said the uncertainty around Wagner in the Central African Republic provided a “window of opportunity” for the United States and France to counter Russian influence.
The Biden administration has offered security assistance in exchange for easing Wagner out, said three Central African officials briefed on the discussions. Recently, representatives of American private security firm Bancroft met with Central African officials in Bangui, the country’s capital, a person familiar with the meeting confirmed.
Fidèle Gouandjika, the security adviser to the country’s president, Faustin-Archange Touadéra, said his administration had until the end of the year to tell US officials whether it was willing to partner with them.
A US State Department spokesman said in a statement that the United States was encouraging Central African officials to “gain their independence from the Wagner Group” but declined to comment further. The US National Security Council did not respond to a request for comment.
Touadéra has also had discussions with President Emmanuel Macron of France, a former colonial power whose involvement in the Central African Republic has waned in recent years. French and Central African officials are now working on a road map for renewed cooperation in civilian affairs.
It remains unclear, however, whether Western countries can offer the same level of security as the mercenary group and whether hard-pressed Central African officials will dare face rebel groups and other security threats without Wagner’s familiar embrace. France, which is downsizing its security presence in former colonies amid growing hostility over its lingering influence, has made it clear that it will not provide troops.
For years, the Wagner group has protected the leadership of the Central African Republic with bare-knuckle security enforcement, weaponry and propaganda campaigns. In return, it has gained lucrative mining concessions for gold, diamonds and timber, while also committing egregious human rights abuses against civilians and in clashes with rebel groups.
But in interviews with more than a dozen officials and diplomats, as well as analysts and human rights defenders, over several weeks, a new narrative seems to be emerging.
Wagner, many say, has been a difficult partner that many officials would like to bid good riddance.
“They sold us a win-win partnership, but that relationship hasn’t given us so much,” one of the Central African government officials said about Wagner, speaking on condition of anonymity to discuss relations with the group.
Vladislav Ilin, a spokesman for the Russian Embassy in Bangui said Russia was “determined to come back on the African continent” and continue its security partnership with the Central African Republic.
Russian military instructors were first invited to the Central African Republic in 2017, as its poorly trained and underfunded army struggled to contain rebel groups that had waged an insurgency since 2012.
It was a quick fix for both parties: Russia saw an opening to regain influence on a continent where it had lost its clout since the fall of the Soviet Union. The Central African government could enjoy the support of a major power without meeting the human rights and transparency standards demanded by Western partners.
Even now, with its grip in the Central African Republic apparently weakened, Wagner remains a major presence.
As the shadowy fight over its future plays out, more than 1,000 Wagner mercenaries and some of the group’s top operatives remain in the country.
They still control the largest gold mine in the Central African Republic, and Russians still escort Touadéra as he moves across the country.
National soldiers trained by Russian instructors and wearing the Wagner skull logo on their uniforms still guard government buildings and patrol the president’s neighbourhood.
And in Bangui, senior local Wagner figures dine at the same restaurants favoured by Western diplomats and UN officials. They have even been spotted at private parties organised by humanitarian organisations.
The main road linking Bangui to neighbouring Cameroon snakes through lush plains and dense forests and past scattered villages. At times, an unmarked vehicle appears over the horizon, escorting trucks to the capital.
These are Wagner convoys, securing the lifeline of one of the world’s poorest countries and often helping themselves to whatever they want along the way. On the side of the road, where merchants sell snacks along with fuel in Russian beer bottles, Russian drivers often stop to grab a can of soda, a piece of bush meat or chicken – without paying.
In Yaloké, a small mining town, residents say, armed, masked white men have looted motorcycles, animals and gold. When Russian-speaking men stole two goats in 2021, they told their owner, who asked to be identified only by his first name, Jean-Puissance, “It’s on Touadéra’s bill,” he said, referring to the Central African president.
“They’re bandits. They plunder and leave,” he added. “And they’ll come back.”
They also employ beatings and torture as a routine element of their law enforcement efforts, Central Africans and rights groups say.
“We know about their practices; we know about the women and girls they take to their trucks,” said Cardinal Dieudonné Nzapalainga, the archbishop of Bangui.
“They’re no angels, and they behave savagely,” he said, but added “they’re still a lesser evil” than the rebel groups that controlled large areas of the Central African Republic for years.
Russian instructors have also trained hundreds of Central African soldiers and self-defence groups in torture methods, according to multiple reports.
Perhaps recognising the growing resentment, Wagner has taken steps recently to soften its image.
The Russian cultural centre in Bangui, known as the Russian House and run by a senior operative of the Wagner group, offers knitting and language lessons, wedding ceremonies and free snacks. There is even an inflatable pool for children, for which Prigozhin promised clean water on that final visit to Bangui.
The manager of the centre, Anfissa Kiryanova, an amiable woman in her mid-30s, has emerged as one of the new public faces of the group. She said in an interview that she was sad about Prigozhin’s death and that “we will see what changes over time”.
But one thing remains certain. “Our boss,” she said, meaning the Russian leader, Vladimir Putin, “remains the president”. — ©2023 The New York Times Company