Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso (pop. 6.9 million), formerly Upper Volta, has lost little of its charm since the country gained independence from France in 1960. But the spacious avenues, bustling with mopeds and bicycles, belie the surrounding poverty. About 850 miles away in Accra, the capital of neighboring Ghana (pop. 14.3 million), where decrepit vehicles clog potholed streets, decay is all too evident. Yet despite the dilapidated economies of the two countries, they share a surprising amount of hope, largely because of the determination of their leaders. Once backed by extreme leftist elements, both men now appear committed to pursuing a pragmatic, less doctrinaire route out of poverty.
The two leaders, Ghana's Flight Lieut. Jerry Rawlings, 37, and Burkina Faso's Paratroop Captain Thomas Sankara, 35, are striving to reverse years of economic decline, corruption and injustice. In this, they represent a large improvement over men who have given black African leadership the image of brutality and profligacy. Idi Amin, for instance, ruled Uganda with blood and bluster from 1971 to 1979, and Jean-Bedel Bokassa, the self-proclaimed "Emperor" of the Central African Republic, held his country in terror between 1966 and 1979, flogging and mutilating his opponents.
In contrast, Rawlings and Sankara lead by example and exhortation. Says the Rev. Samuel Batsa, president of the Accra-based National Union of Catholic Diocesan Priests: "The smiles have come back here in Ghana after a long, long time." Rawlings, the Roman Catholic son of a Scottish father and Ghanaian mother, seized power in 1979, then relinquished it four months later to an elected government. He took control again in 1981, accusing the government of corruption: "There is no justice in this society, and so long as there is no justice, let there be no peace." Since then, Rawlings has moderated his rhetoric. He has imposed an austerity package prescribed by the International Monetary Fund, which has, among other things, eliminated government subsidies on oil products and devalued the cedi, Ghana's hyperinflated currency. Last year the country's gross national product rose for the first time in a decade. Says John Ijichi, Ghana's loan officer at the World Bank in Washington: "What is refreshing in Ghana is that people openly admit that the situation is their fault."
Burkina Faso's Sankara has also inherited a country in economic torpor, and one that because of a chronic drought has actually become poorer since he took over in a coup in August 1983. Sankara has cut civil servants' wages and raised taxes. One problem is that his regime's inflammatory rhetoric keeps bubbling to the surface, making some countries hesitant to offer economic aid. Last month, for example, a government-run newspaper compared President Reagan to Hitler, prompting the U.S. to cut back its commitment to two development projects in forestry and agriculture. France, which in 1984 contributed $43 million at current exchange rates, remains the country's main source of aid.