Africa and France: New ways to play an old song WHEN President François Hollande welcomes African heads of state to Paris on December 6th for a summit on peace and security, he will be well-briefed. For weeks he has been preparing to dispatch troops on a mission to restore security - if not peace - to the heart of their continent. On December 5th the UN Security Council was preparing to authorise a peacekeeping operation in the Central African Republic (CAR), led by 1,000 French soldiers. Their mandate is to break a cycle of violence in the former colony that has been described as "pre-genocidal." One paradox will not be lost on those attending the banquets and seminars in Paris. Mr Hollande says that "Africans must themselves guarantee their security in Africa," as he put it in a speech earlier this year. He will repeat the message to African leaders gathered at the Elysée Palace, promising French logistics and planning support for regional peacekeeping forces so that they can take on the task more convincingly. Yet he finds himself on the cusp of his second military intervention on the continent this year, having sent French troops into Mali in January to fight Islamist extremists (see article). Five years ago, a defence review under his centre-right predecessor, Nicolas Sarkozy, concluded that France needed to shift its military focus from sub-Saharan Africa towards a "strategic arc" of instability reaching from the Maghreb to the Horn of Africa and the Gulf. To this end, Mr Sarkozy shut France's permanent military base in Senegal, one of three on the continent, kept one in Djibouti, and opened another in Abu Dhabi, its first in the Gulf. It was not a withdrawal from Africa, officials stressed at the time, but a response to a changing security threat. The strategy appealed to those keen to turn the page on françafrique, that tangle of informal ties between France and its former colonies kept in place by arms deals, business contracts and political favours, which Mr Sarkozy said belonged to a "bygone era." It made good financial sense at a time when the French defence budget was being squeezed. It also dealt with frustrations in France that the former colonial power was playing regional gendarme in Africa, while China, India and other emerging economic powers secured more of the commercial rewards. As a French report published on December 4th points out, China is now the world's biggest exporter to the continent. France languishes in fifth place. Since that defence review, however, growing insecurity across the region, from the Sahel to the Great Lakes, has made it hard for France to sit on the sidelines militarily. Regional African forces are in better shape than they were, but they still struggle to respond to an emergency. The instability and seepage of arms generated by the Arab spring, the entrenchment of al-Qaeda and other terrorist networks in the Sahel and northern Nigeria, the increased hostage-taking of French nationals - all raise the spectre of an "Afrighanistan" to Europe's south, focusing French minds and putting security back at the top of the agenda, as this week's summit suggests. At first glance, more French meddling might look like a resumption of old ways. But there has been a shift in thinking about the nature of intervention, which began at the end of Mr Sarkozy's watch. In 2011, stung by accusations of complicity with deposed north African leaders, he sent French soldiers to oust Laurent Gbagbo in Ivory Coast, who had refused to accept defeat at the polls. In Mali, Mr Hollande built further credibility for French intervention. The idea is that, by acting in consultation with regional leaders and alongside African forces, France can operate more efficiently, get out faster and restore influence on a continent otherwise looking to China, America and elsewhere. The CAR mission, named Sangaris after a local butterfly, will be a big test. It responds to a humanitarian crisis. In this mostly Christian and animist country (though with a big Muslim minority), at least 400,000 people, nearly a tenth of the population, have fled their homes amid horrific violence. But France also sees the CAR as a strategic matter. The collapse of the state in this landlocked, mineral-rich country, with a history of military coups and borders with six countries involved in regional conflicts, could draw in terrorists and traffickers, destabilising the region. "One of the lessons of Mali is that French military bases are extremely useful and enable us to act immediately," says Camille Grand, director of the Foundation for Strategic Research, a Paris-based think-tank. In Bangui, the CAR capital, some 400 soldiers are already guarding the airport; logistics specialists began to arrive this week, and a French military convoy is on its way from neighbouring Cameroon. Meanwhile many political and military leaders in the region sit on their hands - if they are not jetting to Paris. Thanks to the swift French deployment, some armed gangs loyal to the mostly Muslim Séléka rebellion are said to be heading out of Bangui already. France insists that its effort amounts to a "bridging force," designed merely to restore order while a regional peacekeeping force of 2,000 men is prepared for the job. Jean-Yves Le Drian, the French defence minister, thinks this may take six months. "We are not there to replace the African force, but to strengthen it," says an official. Yet the great difficulty, both in the short run and beyond, is as always building up a credible regional alternative. When French forces first went into Mali, Laurent Fabius, the foreign minister, said that the main operation would be a "question of weeks." Nearly a year later, 2,800 French soldiers are still there on the ground.