Anti-French fury in the Comoros Islands

After African Union troops were sent to remove the president of one of the Comoros Islands from power, a diplomatic crisis swiftly followed when Colonel Mohamed Bacar escaped, apparently with French assistance. Jonny Hogg watched events unfold on the ground.

My footsteps were the only sound and even they seemed muted in the damp, heavy darkness of a tropical night.

How does such political instability equate with the spiritual peace that seems to permeate the leisurely pace of life?

I was already regretting my decision to walk to the hotel to send an e-mail. It was too silent for a capital city.

Suddenly a figure emerged out of the shadows. I started and muttered the traditional greeting, "salaama".

"Salaama," came the reply in the darkness. I walked on but the figure was now turning, accosting me, seemingly angry.

A few minutes later I was a chastened man. Abdul - for that was his name - was not impressed that I had walked past him in the middle of the night without at least stopping to pass the time.

I mumbled an apology. My nocturnal niceties evidently were not up to scratch. Abdul, having ticked me off, gave me a big smile.

"Perhaps we shall meet tomorrow when you are less stressed."

As I walked on, I was grinning in the dark.

The Comoros - or the Islands of the Moon - lie in a crescent shape in the Indian Ocean, north of Madagascar.

It is a volcanic archipelago and Grande Comore, the largest island, is dominated by the hulk of Karthala, one of the world's most active volcanoes.

Since 2005 it has erupted four times. Its forested slopes are streaked with the scars of old lava floes. The electric blue of the Indian Ocean laps against the jet black volcanic rock that forms the island's shoreline.

To the south are the islands of Moheli and Anjouan, separated by water but part of the Union of the Comoros nonetheless.

Eruptions

The country is infused with a vertigo-inducing sense of other-worldliness.

Rainbows burst at crazy angles from clouds that boil and surge on Karthala's flanks.

Large birds that circle above turn out not to be birds at all but giant bats, flapping eerily over the capital, Moroni, with slow, thoughtful wing beats.

It is not just the islands' volcanoes that are prone to eruptions.

Since gaining independence from France in 1975, this Muslim country has seen 20 coups which, if you are interested, works out at approximately one every 1.65 years.

What is so strange, however, is that the Comorians - desperately poor and with few job prospects - remain some of the most welcoming people I have ever met.

How does such political instability equate with the spiritual peace that seems to permeate the leisurely pace of life there?

In fairness, at least three of the coups were orchestrated by the French mercenary, Bob Denard.

Anti-French protests

Once more, in recent days, the Comorians have had to contemplate the possibility that they are not masters of their own political fate.

The Comoran government want France to extradite Mohamed Bacar

In the space of a few hours, I saw the warmth and friendliness of a Comorian welcome turn into shaking fists and thrown stones. Anti-French protests swept the country.

Even the Comorian government said it appeared that France had been quietly helping the rebel Anjouanaise president, Mohamed Bacar.

He escaped by speedboat to the French island of Mayotte, evading 1,000 African Union and Comorian soldiers sent to remove him from power.

In the hours leading up to the invasion, people spoke of bringing Mohamed Bacar to justice for his alleged crimes.

One man said, shaking with anger: "We are ready to eat. It will not be easy to eat a whole man but we shall eat Mohamed Bacar."

Metaphorical perhaps, but so far the feast has been denied them. He is currently requesting asylum with France.

Just before the invasion, a helicopter carrying two French policemen crashed off the coast of Anjouan. The French authorities say it was surveying illegal fishing.

Graffiti in Moroni says: "Since when have the French ever surveyed illegal fishing?"

Some suspect the helicopter was there to rescue Bacar.

Ansur, a Comorian, told me that people might attack the French embassy in Moroni.

He is a neat, quiet English teacher and I hardly believed him. Yet when Colonel Bacar escaped and independent but unconfirmed reports said ammunition boxes addressed to the French embassy had been found in his headquarters, Ansur was proved right.

Throat-slitting gestures

He too was in the crowd, baying anti-French slogans as lines of police held them back.

The African Union are trying to help stablise the Comoros

I was told to leave because I was white and could be mistaken as French. The same people who had welcomed me so warmly made throat-slitting gestures as they went past.

Tear gas and bullets were used to disperse the crowd but emotions remained high.

The day after I left, the main hotel in Moroni was attacked after it was rumoured French nationals were hiding there.

"Time and time again the French have interfered in our country," Ansur told me with rage. "They must leave."

I liked the Comorian people very much, their passion and their gentleness. I do not know the truth of the political intrigue that swirls around the tiny archipelago but I hope that, when these latest tremors have died down, more people will visit the Islands of the Moon.

They will not regret it. And perhaps if you live in the shadow of a volcano, it is not surprising if you are a bit explosive.

From Our Own Correspondent was broadcast on Saturday, 5 April, 2008 at 1130 BST on BBC Radio 4. Please check the programme schedules for World Service transmission times.