Auguste Miremont, Côte d’Ivoire’s first Minister of Communication (1989–1993) and former Director-General of Fraternité Matin, shares his insights on the nation’s political evolution in a newly published memoir. At 85, the veteran statesman and media figure reflects on decades of public service with candor and depth, offering a rare perspective on the country’s transformative years.
You’ve spent much of your career documenting Côte d’Ivoire’s journey. Now, a book titled « Auguste Miremont: From Houphouët to Ouattara, in Complete Freedom » turns the lens on your own life. How does this shift in perspective sit with you?
For years, I resisted the idea of writing about myself. The book’s author, Michel Koffi, had to work tirelessly to convince me. After leaving journalism, politics, and public office—including roles as a deputy, mayor, and minister—I chose a quieter path. Yet, many around me argued that someone who had witnessed so many pivotal moments in our nation’s history had a duty to preserve that legacy. Recently, even during an official ceremony in my hometown, local authorities urged me to record my memories. It became clear that my experiences could still serve a greater purpose.
Ultimately, I realized Michel wasn’t seeking to glorify me but to create a record of shared history. The book’s title—« From Houphouët to Ouattara, in Complete Freedom »—speaks to that intent. The project’s roots in Fraternité Matin, where Michel once worked and I led, didn’t sway me initially. What mattered was trust. Our professional and personal bonds made the 30 hours of interviews feel like natural conversations rather than a formal process. The 18-month collaboration, though lengthy, was enriching. Michel’s drafts often needed my journalist’s eye for precision, and at one point, he wisely stopped showing me earlier versions to keep the project moving forward.
This book traces Côte d’Ivoire’s political trajectory through the presidencies of Houphouët-Boigny, Bédié, Guéï, Gbagbo, and Ouattara. What stands out to you about this journey?
The path hasn’t been smooth. Under Houphouët-Boigny, stability prevailed despite crises, mutinies, and social tensions. His genius lay in listening, delaying action when necessary, and acting at the right moment. The transitions to Bédié and Ouattara introduced far greater complexity. The succession process, though legally clear, sparked divisions. Then came the 1999 coup and the prolonged political turmoil that followed—years that weighed heavily on me.
Which moments were most painful for you?
Without hesitation, the institutional rupture of 1999. The coup against President Bédié was shocking. As President of the PDCI’s parliamentary group with 175 of 200+ deputies, I saw our strong majority crumble overnight. The violence that ensued—from the deaths of Robert Guéï and Minister Émile Boga Doudou to the broader conflict—was devastating. Learning of Guéï’s assassination while en route to Abidjan left me in tears at the airport. It felt like the collapse of the Côte d’Ivoire Houphouët-Boigny had built: a stable, respected nation that once aided others in the region. Suddenly, we became a cautionary tale in international media. For those of us who shaped the country’s early years, it was unbearable.
Your relationship with Houphouët-Boigny was professional but influential. What defined your bond?
I wasn’t in his inner circle, but as his Minister of Communication and head of Fraternité Matin, we interacted daily. He respected me for my integrity—never chasing favors or flattery—and for speaking my mind. The only quirk was his habit of addressing me as « De Miremont » (laughs). I suspect he saw in me a reflection of Côte d’Ivoire’s diverse heritage. He had a profound understanding of our nation’s history and its people.
Did your background as a French national influence your role?
Not at all. Houphouët-Boigny treated me as an Ivorian first. My work spoke for itself.
Your rapport with President Bédié was similarly strong. How did that relationship evolve?
Bédié and I shared deep ties, rooted in mutual respect and shared connections, including with Laurent Dona Fologo. As President, our interactions were less frequent due to his schedule, but he remained accessible whenever I sought his counsel. His passing was a profound loss.
You also engaged with Presidents Guéï and Gbagbo. What were those dynamics like?
Guéï was family—Yacouba by heritage—and we crossed paths often, though I had no sway over his policies. With Gbagbo, our relationship began when he was a professor entering politics. As President, he surprised me with financial support during a difficult period. Later, we collaborated on economic reforms, nearly forming a national unity government before political infighting derailed the effort. I’ll always be grateful for his assistance.
Among these leaders, who best embodied Houphouët-Boigny’s legacy?
It’s hard to rank them. Each had distinct approaches. Yet, President Alassane Ouattara stands out for absorbing Houphouët-Boigny’s lessons in patience, listening, and decisive action. As Prime Minister, his firmness was legendary—no tolerance for errors among his team. Today, he’s more measured, perhaps a reflection of experience. I miss the strictness he once applied to governance; it was crucial for our economic recovery.
Your admiration for Ouattara is evident. What defines your relationship with him?
Loyalty, trust, and admiration. He’s a man of courage, tenacity, and remarkable courtesy. Even when busy, his team would call back within half an hour if he missed a call. He treats everyone with respect, from cabinet members to ordinary citizens. His heart is as vast as his vision for Côte d’Ivoire. I’ve witnessed his dedication firsthand—whether through bold economic reforms or the warmth he extends to those around him.
With Ouattara nearing the end of his political career, how do you view Côte d’Ivoire’s future?
He’s still very much in command, and his mandate is far from over. His focus remains on unity, solidarity, and prosperity. The infrastructure alone speaks volumes: hospitals, universities, roads, and even projects like the Daloa boulevard reminiscent of Paris’s Champs-Élysées. Progress isn’t limited to cities; remote regions like Bin-Houyé to Toulépleu are seeing tangible improvements. Yet, challenges persist—rising living costs, inequality—and the government is addressing them through social programs like vocational training and « Ecole de la deuxième chance. »
Do you believe the government is doing enough to balance economic growth with social equity?
The government recognizes these gaps. Initiatives like the filets sociaux (social safety nets) and youth employment programs demonstrate a commitment to inclusive development. In my own community, 25 apprenticeship scholarships were awarded to young people. These efforts may not erase hardship entirely, but they’re steps in the right direction.
