ASSOCIATED PRESS Oscar Temaru, 59, left, a pro-independence leader from French Polynesia, gestured on June 15, after being elected as the Pacific archipelago's president, in Papeete, Tahiti. But former president Gaston Flosse, shown at right in on May 12, 1996, refused to cede power.

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Tale of two presidents
and a political crisis
in French Polynesia

After a close election, both
candidates refuse to concede

PAPEETE, French Polynesia » It all sounded too familiar. The election was incredibly close and the losing party did not want to concede defeat.

The impasse spawned angry voices on both sides, railing at each other futilely on talk radio. From the looks of it, the highest court in the land will have a stake in deciding who the next president will be.

If you think you're in the Twilight Zone rehashing Gore vs. Bush, you're wrong. No, this is Papeete, the sleepy capital of French Polynesia, and you're in the netherworld of Tahitian politics, where two concurrent governments (run by the Tavini and Tahoeraa parties respectively) appear to be in existence. However, no one is running the ship of state.

Tavini followers have occupied the presidential palace ever since party leader Oscar Temaru lost a vote of no confidence last month after being in office only four months. By refusing to leave the presidential grounds, his adherents are making it exceedingly difficult for Gaston Flosse, head of the new government and the Tahoeraa Party, to exercise full authority. Flosse, up until the most recent election, was president of French Polynesia for nearly 20 years. Critics, among them some of his own supporters, complain he has run the country like his own kuleana.

The upshot: Government business has ground to a halt. Public works projects and private investment have been put on hold. The economy is faltering, unemployment has risen and talk on the street is that petty theft is on the rise.

Still, the crisis has its lighter moments. "Over the past few months, it's been surreal," said one civil servant who preferred to remain anonymous.

"One of the presidents might show up to inaugurate a new office building while a few hundred meters away, the other president is giving a speech at a government office. As part of the civil administration, I'll get phone calls from the staff of both presidents to implement this or that directive. We really don't know whom to listen to. Paralysis has set in."

Fortunately for Tahiti's tourism industry, a key source of jobs and revenue, nothing seems amiss. The tour buses continue to deposit pale visitors on the beach, the Hinano Beer is cold and the Tahitian dancers strut their stuff at the hotel reviews.

However, residents are not so sanguine. Immediately after I arrived at FAAA International Airport, my host and I stopped at his neighborhood post office to check the family post-office box.

Blocking the entrance was a pickup truck packed with beefy supporters of ousted president Temaru who heads the Tahiti Independence Party, known locally as "Tavini." Sporting T-shirts labeled "Taui," the Tahitian word for change, they sat squarely in front of the post office door waving a blue and white Tavini flag with five gold stars, representing the five archipelagos of French Polynesia. No one was getting into the building that evening to collect their mail.

A 30-ish working-class Tahitian man who also was to pick up his mail, was not amused. "This is crazy, and it's getting us nowhere. I used to be a Temaru fan, but I'm not anymore."

Although politics has interrupted mail delivery, it hasn't directly affected consumers except occasionally as a source of discomforting rumors. At a gasoline station, which also serves as a distribution point for cooking gas, I stopped to pick up a canister for the family I was visiting, but the attendant told me there were none available. There had been talk floating around town that Tavini supporters were going to prevent purchases of cooking gas and as a result every available extra had been scooped up.

Supporters of Temaru's Tavini party, who currently occupy the presidential palace, have also locked doors in some state-run office buildings and shut down government e-mail servers for nearly a month. The goal has been to put pressure on the national government in Paris and France's high court (Council of State) to implement new elections. Temaru and his followers won't give up their hopes of regaining power until this occurs.

Last week both erstwhile presidents and their entourages jetted off to Paris to meet with the French overseas minister in an attempt to begin a serious dialogue. The court ordered Temaru's followers to remove themselves from the presidential palace and that a fine be imposed for each day that government offices are occupied. In Paris, Temaru ordered party members to abandon the palace and other buildings, but to date only his cabinet has complied. Hard-core supporters vow to remain inside.

The Paris talks broke off early this week but not before a tentative date for elections was set for February in Tahiti and nearby Moorea. France's highest court invalidated the previous election results from those islands because of voting irregularities.

The French Polynesian presidential debacle, which has been very closely followed in France, has been a distraction for French President Jacques Chirac. Chirac, a longtime political ally and personal friend of Flosse, would like put to rest the Polynesian political crisis. Recent allegations that Flosse mismanaged public funds, padded government payrolls with fictitious employees and set up a plush hideaway on two remote atolls for entertaining mistresses have surfaced.

With elections coming up in France, Chirac would prefer not to be tarred by the alleged misdeeds of his pal Gaston.

The local business community would prefer that business as usual return, but so long as the Brasserie de Tahiti (the local brewery) is running, the cops are on the street and the electrical power plant hums along, most residents don't seem too worried.