Big fish circle Guinea

By Mark Doyle BBC world affairs correspondent

The west African state of Guinea comes under an unfamiliar spotlight on Saturday as it assumes the rotating presidency of the United Nations Security Council.

The former French colony is taking over the presidency for one month, the period that all members of the council serve.

Market scene in the farming town of Kindia

But by chance it will be a month in which crunch decisions could be taken on Iraq, and activities around the horseshoe-shaped table of the Security Council will be under unprecedented scrutiny.

Guinea, for me, is a stunning mountain road. It's my first and best memory of the place.

The mountain road runs south from the capital, Conakry, and in the late 1990s it was the only way to reach the war in neighbouring Sierra Leone, where airports were closed.

The first time I visited Guinea I was full of trepidation. I was sure it was going to be awful, with obstructive, irredeemably corrupt officials, and crumbling infrastructure

Taking the road was no hardship. A few miles outside the suburbs of Conakry, the green mountains of the Fouta Djallon region rise majestically in the distance, their tops swathed in cloud.

This is where the great rivers of west Africa rise. The River Niger and the River Senegal begin as clouds over the Fouta Djallon before they meander off towards to the coast and pour into the Gulf of Guinea.

Negative image

The first time I visited Guinea I was full of trepidation. I was sure it was going to be awful, with obstructive, irredeemably corrupt officials, and crumbling infrastructure.

I'm not sure why Guinea had such a terrible image in my mind. Maybe it was the generally negative treatment the country has in the French press, which is usually the only press to cover the place.

Top Guinean officials are confident types. They seem to lack the bureaucratic inferiority complex that's inbred in the parts of French-speaking Africa

The French took a dislike to Guinea when the old Cold War dictator running the place in the 1960s, Sekou Toure, took the country out of the French Commonwealth and into the welcoming arms of the old Soviet Union.

Sekou Toure is long dead. But the army man who took over from him, and still rules, is no democrat, and today's government is repressive.

However, despite all that, on my first visit, I was pleasantly surprised by what I found.

First there was that stunning road.

And Conakry, a city which I had expected to be a broken-down collection of shacks, was actually a quite substantial place with a lively port and a bustling downtown business area.

And then there were the people.

Inbred confidence

One of the first senior officials I met was a charming man sporting a red silk cravat, Monsieur Pierre.

Top Guinean officials are confident types. They seem to lack the bureaucratic inferiority complex that's inbred in the parts of French-speaking Africa that have been dominated by France for decades.

Guinea's vote at the UN is suddenly crucial

"It is widely believed that the mercenaries we employ to deal with the rebels are Russian," Monsieur Pierre said with disarming candour.

At the time, during the Sierra Leone war, rebels from Sierra Leone were mounting raids into Guinea.

"Well, they're not Russian," said Monsieur Pierre, adjusting his silk cravat. "They're Ukrainian."

Emboldened, I asked how many helicopter gunships the mercenaries were flying. Was it six?

"No," said Monsieur Pierre, clicking his briefcase shut. "It was six, but two broke down. There are four now. You can see them, over there, behind the aircraft hangar." And there they were.

I've changed Monsieur Pierre's name, of course, to protect his identity, but you get the idea. That's one side to Guinea - a sort of frankness.

Rambo

But there's another side - a sort of chaos.

As well as deploying mercenaries to protect its borders, Guinea has militias in its arsenal.

These days they're not used in Sierra Leone, where the war is over, but in another neighbouring state, Liberia.

Guinea is also instinctively opposed to an early war because, like Iraq, it is a mainly Muslim country. Weighed against this, Guinea has been heavily wooed by the US

Guinea says Liberian troops have attacked them and that they have a right to respond.

One of the Guinean militiamen I met was a man called Rambo. I met him on the border with Liberia dressed in blue jeans and a leather waistcoat, his bare biceps glistening with sweat, his forehead wrapped in a red bandana.

"Liberia attacked Guinea, so they deserve the same," he said.

I didn't speak to Rambo for long. He had a pistol in his belt and smelt of beer, which is not a great combination.

The crunch

So how will Guinea run the Security Council, or, more importantly, perhaps, since the presidency is a largely ceremonial position, how will it vote if it comes to the crunch on Iraq?

If the US and Britain are to get their second resolution Guinea's vote could be crucial.

Last month American and British ministers rushed to Conakry sell their diplomatic wares - although I don't suppose they took my mountain road to get there.

In theory Guinea should vote against immediate military action. Along with the rest of Africa, Guinea signed up to this position at a recent summit in Paris, to the delight of the French.

Guinea is also instinctively opposed to an early war because, like Iraq, it is a mainly Muslim country.

Weighed against this, Guinea has been heavily wooed by the United States. Washington opposes the government in Liberia as well, and generally approves of Conakry's actions in the west African region.

The Americans have given limited military training to the Guinean army - for defensive purposes only, you understand - but it's clear which side the US is on and Guinea welcomes that.

The big fish are circling Guinea. But only one will get its vote.