Earlier this month, we brought you the news that Somalia's al-Shabab had joined Twitter and begun tweet-taunting the Kenyan military, which has launched an offensive against the al-Qaeda-affiliated Islamic militant group. The account's administrator claimed the organization wasn't engaged in a larger rebranding effort, as we and other Western news outlets had suggested.

In fact, it's recruitment -- not rebranding -- that has the Obama administration worried about al-Shabab's new Twitter presence. When the group first launched the account, Wired noted that "journalists, terrorism researchers, and aid workers make up the lion's share of its early followers, not eager Muslim youth." But the New York Times reports today that officials across the U.S. government are concerned that al-Shabab's account, which now boasts over 5,000 followers, could reach potential recruits in the West with its scathing and sophisticated English-language tweeting. "American officials say they may have the legal authority to demand that Twitter close the Shabab's account," the paper explains (Twitter declined to comment). 

If the government does indeed pursue legal action, the Times notes, it could open up a "debate about over the line between free speech and support for terrorism." And, indeed, the debate is already underway. In what appears to be a response to the Times piece today, al-Shabab tweeted, "With millions of websites & newspapers disseminating their propaganda, the #US couldn't endure to hear the real truth. What a travesty!" (The group also called an earlier Times article on its Twitter account an "elaborate, sentimental piece of writing accentuating the oft-repeated canard that passes for #Journalism these days.")

Over at Salon, meanwhile, Glenn Greenwald argues that the Obama administration's concern about al-Shabab's Twitter account highlights the "simultaneous absurdity and perniciousness of the War on Terror." He continues:

So the U.S. Government believes it may have "legal authority" to compel Twitter to close accounts. From where does that authority derive? Presumably, the Obama administration could consider Twitter's providing of a forum to a designated Terrorist organization to constitute the crime of "material support of Terrorism." That raises a variety of questions: is the NYT guilty of that crime by quoting some of those tweets and promoting the account (since the first NYT article was published, the number of people following @HSMPress has significantly increased and is almost certain to increase more as a result of today's article). Can one be guilty of that crime if one re-tweets any of their messages? How about if one defends their right to have a Twitter account?

What is more likely than compulsory action is thuggish extra-legal intimidation aimed at Twitter to "voluntarily" close the account. That path is less overt but just as insidious, if not more so. That is how government officials such as Joe Lieberman succeeded in cutting off all of WikiLeaks' funding sources and web hosting options without the bother of charging that group with a crime: by demanding that Amazon, Master Card, Visa, Paypal and others "on their own accord" terminate WikiLeaks' accounts and refuse to provide the group with any services.

The Guardian's Jason Burke thinks worries about al-Shabab's account are overblown. "Al-Shabab's tweeter is witty, sharp and articulate, and undoubtedly attractive to the odd aspirant jihadi," he writes. But "militancy involves a complex web of personal associations and the strongest influences are brothers, fathers and friends, not virtual web-based communities."

Muammar Qaddafi didn't have many friends left in the days before his death, but the ones he'd maintained were still publicly supporting him against mounting odds. Earlier this month, Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez, who blames Western meddling for the unrest in the Middle East, praised Qaddafi loyalists for "resisting the invasion and aggression" and asked "God to protect the life of our brother Muammar Qaddafi." Another Qaddafi ally, Zimbabwe's President Robert Mugabe, refused to recognize Libya's interim government, called for the country's new leaders to negotiate with their fugitive ruler, and expressed sympathy for the Qaddafi regime, which, in his view, had been torn asunder by the "machinations of the imperialists." In Cuba, Fidel Castro condemned the "genocide" and "monstrous crimes" committed by the United States and its NATO allies in Libya. 

While Castro and Mugabe haven't yet made public statements about Qaddafi's death today, Chavez has already offered a eulogy. Upon returning to Venezuela after receiving treatment for cancer in Cuba, El Universal reports, Chavez expressed outrage at Qaddafi's  "murder," declared that the "Yankee empire" will "not be able to master this world," and said "we will remember Qaddafi forever as a great fighter, a revolutionary, and a martyr."

The state-run news outlets in Venezuela and Zimbabwe are dutifully expressing their solidarity with Qaddafi as well. Venezolana de Televisión reports that Qaddafi was "assassinated" -- a verb we're not seeing much in the coverage today -- while the Agencia Venezolana de Noticias ridicules Western leaders (the "patrons of aggression against Libya") for invoking freedom and democracy today while waging a military campaign in Libya and establishing crass commercial ties with its new leaders. The analyst Raimundo Kabchi tells AVN that Secretary of State Hillary Clinton "practically authorized and encouraged" Qaddafi's "assassination" during her recent visit to Libya.

The Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation's commentary, meanwhile, comes in the form of an obituary. The ZBC explains that while Qaddafi's "anti western, anti imperialism approach" made him an "enemy of the west" (surely it had nothing to do with the Berlin nightclub or Lockerbie bombings), his "strong military support and finances" won him "several allies across the African continent" (including, of course, Zimbabwe). "Rebel forces" may have killed him today, the news outlet adds, but Qaddafi was really toppled by the U.S. and its NATO allies, who "interfered in the Libyan uprising targeting Colonel Gaddafi using their airstrikes and killing thousands of civilians in the process." The ZBC meditates on Qaddafi's legacy:

He will be to many a hero who went down fighting and exposed the west's decolonising mission in Africa in order to secure the continent's rich resources, that is oil in the case of Libya.

Retired Major Cairo Mhandu, a member of Mugabe's ruling Zanu-PF party, echoed ZBC's view today, according to the Global Post, warning of the "beginning of a new recolonization of Africa." Qaddafi, Mhandu argued, "won elections and was a true leader. It is foreigners who toppled him, not Libyans. Qaddafi died fighting. He is a true African hero." (Mugabe's political opponents told Voice of America that Qaddafi was the architect of his own downfall and that his death was a step in the direction of democracy).

Qaddafi's friends aren't limited to a handful of anti-Western world leaders, either.  The Daily Beast reports that Qaddafi's former nurse Oksana Balinskaya, who's returned to Ukraine, is mourning the loss of her former boss, whom she considers a "brave hero" for making a last stand in his hometown of Sirte. "Why should we hate him or think of him as tyrant, if he gave us jobs and paid us well?" she asks.

As Bill Gates unveiled his plan this week to rid the world of polio, health officials in the northern Nigerian state of Kano announced their own assault on the disease. "The government will henceforth arrest and prosecute any parent that refuses to allow health workers to vaccinate his child against child-killer diseases, particularly polio," said a health ministry official.

This news, which was announced at the outset of the government's four-day vaccination campaign targeting six million children, marks a shift in government policy toward immunization programs in the north of the country. Nigeria's polio vaccination program stalled for more than a year after Muslim leaders raised doubts over the inoculations' safety in the summer of 2003 -- resulting in bans issued by some northern state governments. One leader went so far as to claim that the vaccine was "being used for the purpose of depopulating developing countries, and especially Muslim countries." Other rumors claimed that the vaccines were contaminated with HIV and caused infertility in Muslim girls.

Although it ended in 2004, the immunization ban led to a resurgence of polio outbreaks within previously polio-free regions of Nigeria, as well as in surrounding countries.

This time around, Kano officials aren't taking any chances on noncompliant communities. Officials, who have not yet detailed the punishment or fines that would meet unwilling parents, clearly mean business: The mandate extends even to medical workers, who will be held responsible for reporting unwilling parents.

The recent vaccination effort in Kano comes after UNICEF Deputy Representative Jacques Boyer's recent visit to the capital city, during which he highlighted the challenges of eradicating polio in Nigeria, one of only four nations where polio is endemic. Boyer pointed out that while Nigerian polio cases dropped dramatically -- from 338 in 2009 to 21 in 2010 -- there has been a recent rise, with 20 cases reported in the last six months.

A July 2011 report by the Global Polio Eradication Initiative (GPEI) partially attributed this rise to distraction brought on by the recent national elections. While the report's authors praised Nigeria's government for "showing greater commitment to eradicating polio," they also noted that Kano failed to meet indicators of progress and "remains a smouldering risk that could yet undermine the whole eradication effort." With of the weight of polio eradication hanging over them, officials had better hope the threat of imprisonment does the trick.

The world's newest state -- South Sudan -- and Israel today established full diplomatic relations and will soon exchange ambassadors. The move was not a surprise. South Sudanese Vice President Riek Machar said two weeks ago that his country would have "relations with all the Arab and Muslim countries and even with Israel." And a delegation of Israeli officials recently visited the African nation's capital, Juba, to hold talks with officials there.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu officially recognized the new country a week before the U.N. voted to make it the 193rd state to be admitted to the world body, earlier this month. "We wish it success," Netanyahu said at the time. "It is a peace-seeking country and we would be happy to cooperate with it in order to ensure its development and prosperity."

Israel, which has no relations with northern Sudan, has promised South Sudan economic help -- something it is in need of.

The Jewish state sees Africa as important diplomatic territory and has been offering economic aid and lucrative business deals in recent years -- including arms and agriculture -- in an attempt to counter Iran's growing clout on the continent. The effort is partially about votes in the U.N. -- Africa has 54 now. Iran has been trying to extend its outreach to African states like Senegal and Nigeria in an effort to counter its growing isolation in the West.

"This isn't likely to take the form of an auction-like bidding contest, but increased financial diplomacy by both the suitors, including targeted investments and aid projects designed to curry favor," Eurasia Group's Philippe de Pontet told Reuters last year.

Israel has another reason for wanting to establish ties with the new country. In recent years it has been flooded with thousands of refugees from Sudan -- people fleeing strife in both Darfur and South Sudan. They sneak into Israel through Egypt and have stirred debate about whether the country should be more or less welcoming. Already, since the announcement of new ties, the country's interior minister, Eli Yishai, has called on Israel to begin negotiations with South Sudan to return the refugees.

(In the image above, Sudanese refugees living in Tel Aviv celebrate independence on July 10.)

While an increasingly devastating famine continues to drive Somalis from their homes, many families are citing another reason for leaving: the forced recruitment of child soldiers. A recent Amnesty International report revealed that al-Shabab has intensified its recruitment process in order to gain more control of Central and South Somalia.

Primary schools are raided for soon-to-be soldiers and children are abducted from local playgrounds. Some are bribed with money and phones. Those who run away are often shot in the back, deemed traitors.

A Somali woman who lost several young family members at the hands of the armed rebels told Amnesty International:

"Those recruited by al-Shabab do not come back."

Boys, sometimes as young as eight, are given guns and forced to fight alongside grown men. Girls are used as servants for al-Shabab members, and in some instances, even wives. One testimony of a 16-year-old boy described how young girls are charged with adultery if they refuse to comply with the marriages. Floggings are a common punishment, sometimes ending with the death of the child. Girls and women accused of being raped (yes, accused) have been beaten or stoned to death - even though refugees have told Amnesty International that al-Shabab was responsible for the rape themselves.

Interviews with youth in the region have produced evidence that the Islamist militant group may be using children as suicide bombers, although Amnesty International cannot verify this. A 15-year-old boy described al-Shabab's recruitment tactics:

"They have a methodology, they say you will fight a jihad and then go to paradise. One friend was recruited by them and then he came to the village asking us to join...He had an AK47 and he said he was given lots of money."

While al-Shabab has been criticized for using children as weapons of war, the Transitional Federal Government (TFG), which is internationally-backed and U.S.-funded, has been listed on the UN's annual list of parties that recruit children for armed conflict for seven years in a row —although they dispute the accusation. During a meeting in Geneva, Switzerland on May 4, 2011, TFG members cited a lack of birth certificates and international financial assistance as the main causes of child recruitment. Human Rights Watch, alongside Amnesty International and other humanitarian organizations, have expressed grave concern over TFG training camps that hold refugee children against their will in neighboring Kenya, which has also denied allegations of using child soldiers.

An ex-child soldier who fled to Kenya told Amnesty International:

"I am not feeling safe. I am stressed. I have flashbacks. I am scared that al-Shabab will come here too. I want a better future, better security, further education. I live in fear here."

While gay Americans have a lot to celebrate lately -- the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell and New York becoming the sixth state to legalize gay marriage, among them -- 76 countries still consider being gay a crime. Homosexuality has long been a heated issue in Ghana, and now its LGBT community may face jail time. "All efforts are being made to get rid of these people in the society," said Paul Evans Aidoo, an MP from the western region. Ghana's Bureau of National Investigations has been directed to track down and arrest anyone suspected of being gay.

Aidoo is not the first high profile person to go on the attack publicly. Reverend Stephen Wengam, a prominent religious figure in Ghana, recently wrote an op-ed for the Ghana Broadcasting Company where he stated:

"If homosexuality is tolerated, very soon the human race will be extinct."

Aidoo's efforts could lead to a witch-hunt as he has asked landlords to keep an eye out for "people they suspect of being homosexuals". The police are to be informed of any suspicious activity.

Ghana News Agency, a media outlet based in Accra, is claiming that homosexuality can lead to HIV/AIDS and tuberculosis. While Ghana has recently cut its AIDS rate in half, the disease remains a constant fear of the small West African nation. The homosexual community has now fallen victim to the AIDS blame game.

Apart from South Africa, where gay marriage is formally recognized, homosexuality is shunned by most African leaders. Along with Yemen, Saudi Arabia and Iran, Africa is also home to several countries where being gay is quite literally, a death sentence. In Nigeria, those convicted face death by stoning. LGBT individuals in Ghana may soon join this disturbing trend. One member of parliament, David Tetteh Assuming, recently hinted that more permanent punishments will be instituted for those found guilty of homosexuality:

"I believe that they are treading on dangerous grounds and they could face lynching in future."

Could Muammar al-Qaddafi remain in Libya if he agrees to give up power? It may sound hard to imagine, but as the conflict drags on and the stalemate shows no sign of ending, the idea is gaining traction -- even among Qaddafi's staunch opponents. Today, France's Foreign Minister Alain Juppe suggested it was a possibility.

"One of the scenarios effectively envisaged is that he stays in Libya on one condition which I repeat - that he very clearly steps aside from Libyan political life," Juppe told France's LCI TV.

The solution would require some major legal maneuvering. The new Libyan government -- most likely made up of leaders of the Transitional National Council (TNC) -- would have to agree not to prosecute Qaddafi or his son for the deaths of thousands of people. Internationally, the move would certainly require some sort of Security Council agreement, since Qaddafi, after all, is wanted by the International Criminal Court (ICC) for war crimes (and since any agreement would likely require some international oversight).

The fact that France is suggesting this is significant. It was, after all, one of the first countries to recognize the TNC, and it pushed other nations into supporting the NATO air campaign against Qaddafi. Other governments have hinted at a similar solution in the past -- though mainly countries outside the coalition. Recently, Konstantin Kosachyov, the chairman of the international affairs committee in Russia's lower house of parliament, said: "Probably what can be discussed is some kind of guarantees of his personal security, the security of members of his family."

Last week, Turkey's Foreign Minister Ahmet Davutoglu told journalists that "an exit strategy for Qaddafi to leave power, but not necessarily the country, should be sought."

Officially, Britain and the United States want Qaddafi to be handed over to the ICC, but even their positions have softened recently. British officials say they don't regard that demand as a "red line" in negotiations with Qaddafi. And today, in response to Juppe's statement, the United States made it clear the key was getting Qaddafi to leave power, after that, all things could be considered.

"He needs to remove himself from power," White House spokesman Jay Carney said. "And then it's up to the Libyan people to decide."

Earlier this month, the head of the TNC even hinted that a solution that keeps Qaddafi in Libya was possible. Mustapha Abdul-Jalil told Reuters that the TNC had offered Qaddafi that very deal -- allowing him to stay in Libya if he resigned. (Abdul-Jalil quickly back-pedaled, however, saying the next day that while the TNC discussed that scenario internally, there was no "current or future possibility for Qaddafi to remain in Libya.")

So could a solution like this actually work? Qaddafi would need to be assured he would remain free and safe. Some reports have said he is pushing for a role for his son, Saif al-Islam, in a future government -- though it's highly unlikely the rebels would agree to that.

Another reported possibility is that the U.N. would protect him at his tribal home of Sabha in southwestern Libya. But that would require countries guaranteeing he wouldn't be handed over to the ICC at some point in the future. And that might be a step too far.

The death of 50 percent of Somalia's camels poses a grave question: If camels can't survive, what can? Eastern Africa's drought is proving to be a death sentence for an animal that can normally survive weeks without water. In some areas, over 80 percent of livestock have perished, forcing families to abandon their homes and relocate in overcrowded refugee camps. Ahmed Mohammad, a Somali camel herdsman, told BBC:

"It is a terrible sign when camels start dying because when they start to die, then what chance have sheep, goats and cattle?"

Around two-thirds of Somalia's population depend on their livestock for survival, especially in drought-stricken northern Kenya, Somalia and southern Ethiopia where the majority of people are pastoralists. Without camels, families not only lose milk and meat, but also purchasing power. Oxfam reports that the value of Somali camels has been slashed in half -- many nomadic herders are watching as their livelihood dies off, one by one.

Government buy-back programs have been deemed ineffective by many locals and critics. One program in nothern Kenya only offered compensation for goats and sheep, disregarding the herds of cattle that provide the majority of income for families. Save the Children's Kenya county director, Prasant Naik, noted the significance of the dying camels, saying:

"Pastoralists are used to coping with occasional droughts and dry seasons, but these successive droughts have pushed their resiliency to the limit."

As drought continues to ravage Eastern Africa, livestock have begun to migrate in search of water -- and with mass migration comes widespread crop and pasture destruction. For the first time in nearly twenty years, aid agencies are expected to make a formal declaration of famine. But for now, the Somali government is advising starving families to eat leaves in order to stay alive.

Paul Rusesabagina is credited with saving the lives of 1,268 people during the darkest moments of the Rwandan genocide. In April 1994, as an assistant hotel manager at the Sabena Hotel des Mille Collines in Kigali, he took in and sheltered desperate Tutsis on the hotel's grounds, as Hutu militias rampaged the city. An estimated 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus were killed in 100 days. Rusesabagina's story was eventually told in the Hollywood film "Hotel Rwanda." He was awarded the U.S. Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2005 and has become an international celebrity and human rights advocate.

Now, Rwandan authorities are accusing him of having ties to a Hutu rebel group, whose leaders took part in the genocide. Rusesabagina was questioned last week in Belgium -- where he lives -- at the request of Rwandan prosecutors. They accuse him of wiring money to the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR), a group that operates out of the eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo -- where many fugitive Rwandans, as well as hundreds of thousands of refugees, fled after the genocide.

The prosecutors say he sent thousands of dollars to commanders of the group via Western Union late last year, evidence that was supposedly corroborated by former FDLR commanders who have since been arrested.

So why would the hero who risked his life 17 years ago to shelter likely victims of slaughter send money to a group tied to the perpetration of that genocide? Or is this simply a smear campaign by his enemies back home?

In October, when the charges were first leveled against him, Rusesabagina denied them and said they were political payback for his outspoken criticism of Rwandan President Paul Kagame, who has been in power since 2000. Rusesabagina has said Rwanda could be heading toward another genocide if Tutsi elites, like Kagame, continue to hoard power.

"[The prosecutors are] not only lying, but lying with bad logic.... The government has said that I sent money to people who I met many years ago but have not seen or spoken with since the genocide in 1994," Rusesabagina said back in October. "The last time I sent money to Rwanda was in 2002 or 2003 -- I think 2002 -- to my younger brother for a brain operation."

While celebrated overseas, in Rwanda he has become a controversial figure.

"Back home in Rwanda, Rusesabagina is seen by some as an imposter who took advantage of the information vacuum surrounding what really transpired in Rwanda to claim hero status and rake in millions of dollars," reported one Nigerian newspaper.

Some survivors of the genocide have disputed his version of events, while other critics accuse him of being a publicity hound, the Guardian has reported.

In a statement issued through his charity fund earlier this year, Rusesabagina said Kagame was trying to distract the world's attention from last year's "complete sham" election and his government's heavy-handed tactics in the Congo, where Kagame's government is accused of "war crimes, crimes against humanity, and possibly even genocide against Hutus in that country."

It's been a tough couple of weeks for al Qaeda. Since the successful Navy SEAL raid that killed Osama bin Laden, the terror network has suffered additional losses that analysts say are taking a heavy toll on the group.

Ilyas Kashmiri, al Qaeda's operational leader in Pakistan, was reportedly killed by a U.S. drone strike earlier this month (though al Qaeda hasn't confirmed his death, reports of which have been incorrect before). And last week, an al Qaeda leader in East Africa -- Fazul Abdullah Mohammed -- was killed by Somali forces in Mogadishu. Mohammed was the most wanted man in Africa.

Analysts and U.S. officials say the deaths have created a power vacuum.

"The organization is in a great deal of turmoil," a U.S. counterterrorism official told Foreign Policy. "It's trying to sort itself out with what's going on."

Bruce Hoffman, director of the Security Studies Program at Georgetown University, said Kashmiri and Mohammed were key operational figures, not easily replaced due to their long pedigrees of planning and executing attacks.

"They are especially important because they would have been looked on to plan and implement any acts of retribution [for bin Laden's death] from al Qaeda," he said. "Their killings knock them seriously off balance."

Of course, al Qaeda is well-known for its ability to replenish its ranks. Analysts like Hoffman and Evan Kohlmann, who has consulted with the U.S. government, see a few key names potentially emerging to fill the void.

1. Saif al-Adel

Born in Egypt in 1960 or 1963, according to the FBI. Currently believed to be hiding in Pakistan's tribal region.

Al-Adel was reportedly named the interim chief of Al Qaeda after bin Laden's death. After the 9/11 attacks, he fled to Iran, where he was eventually put under house arrest. In 2008, Iran swapped him for a diplomat taken captive by al Qaeda in Pakistan.

Signature attacks: Has played a hand in many al Qaeda attacks, allegedly dispatching Richard Reid, the shoe bomber, to meet Khalid Sheikh Mohammed; and aiding the 1998 attacks on the U.S. embassies in Africa.

Read on

When Alassane Ouattara finally took over the presidency in the Ivory Coast earlier this month, he did so with the help of a rag tag group of militiamen. There were the formal rebels from the country's brief civil war, known as the Forces Nouvelles. There were local men who picked up alongside the other regular fighters. And then there were the more pernicious militias, such as the so-called "Invisible Commandos" in Abidjan, who hitched their wagon to Ouattara's because -- for at least a moment -- their objectives aligned. What all these groups had in common was their desire to at last unseat an intrasigent outgoing President Laurent Gbagbo who had refused to step down for four months after a lost election. 

Today, Gbagbo is gone. He's being held in detention in the north of the country while he faces a criminal investigation. That's good news by most accounts; at last, Ivory Coast has just one president. But it also means that the glue holding together Ouattara-loyal forces has also lost its stick. 

The most alarming split that's arisen is between the Ouattara army, now calling itself the Republican Forces of the Ivory Coast (FRCI),  and the Invisible Commandos. For Ouattara, the commandos are a massive liability. During the worst of the election stand-off, they were accused of carrying out rather arbitrary night raids in pro-Gbagbo neighborhoods. Their commander, Ibrahim Coulibaly (who goes by the nickname IB), is something of a renegade. He also happens to be the old-time rival of Ouattara's Prime Minister Guillaume Soro, who led the Forces Nouvelles early last decade.

Ouattara ordered the Invisible Commandos back to their barracks after taking office; he also told them to disarm. Apparently the progress wasn't fast enough, and this morning in the Abidjan suburb of Abobo, gunshots rung out as government troops (mostly the former Forces Nouvelles, as well as defectors from Gbagbo's former army) tried to root out IB's militiamen.

All this raises three questions in my mind: First, can Ouattara gain control of the military that brought him to power -- and does he really want to? It was always a gamble to use the "nuclear option" and call on the rebel forces to bring Ouattara into office by force. Now that he's there, those troops are not going to just sit back and let their new civilian leader rule them. They're owed for their duty, and Ouattara may well be a captive to the whims of his army, lest he himself suffer their wrath.

Second, does this new relationship make Ouattara complicit in "his" military's crimes, such as a masscare in Duékoué in March? Probably, it does; it's impossible to argue that Ouattara didn't know who he was getting in bed with when he called on the former rebels and other militia groups to fall in line. After all, his prime minister, Guillame Soro, used to head the Forces Nouvelles. 

Which brings to perhaps the most important parlor game of post-crisis Ivory Coast: What does Soro want, and how will Ouattara have to placate him? The military operation against the Invisible Commandos may be at least in part Soro's doing, given that he and IB are old rivals. As the leader who can keep the new Ivorian army in their barracks -- or call them out again -- Soro might be the man to watch.  

The sound of heavy gunfire is thick in the air in Abidjan this morning; the situation is opaque. Correspondents on the ground for french radio RFI admit on air that they simply can't confirm much about what's going on amid the chaos. The streets are chillingly empty save for combattants. Rumors circulate about where the fighting is, where it's going, and who's in charge. 

But what's clear is that the end game between political rivals Laurent Gbagbo and Alassane Ouattara, both of whom claim to have won last November's presidential election (Ouattara actually did), is every bit as bloody and brutal as feared. After months of talking, this question is being answers with guns.

And to be clear: that's guns on all sides.

There's been a tendency -- an understandable one -- to single out  Gbagbo for the atrocities that his troops have committed. As the obsinate one in this political crisis, it's Gbagob who is under sanction by the West and who the African Union is calling upon to step down. It's Gbagbo whose forces fired upon and killed protestors, vividly captured on YouTube. It's Gbagbo's men who have refused to let the U.N. peacekeepers patrol Abidjan. It's Gbagbo who gave weapons to civilians in Abidjan and asked them to defend him. And so naturally, it's Gbagbo who most people expect to end up in the International Criminal Court, paying for his crimes. That's what Ouattara's troop are banking on; they have been ordered to guard his "physical integrity" should he be caught for precisely that reason. 

But it's important not to forget that Ouattara-loyal forces are also fighting. And on the battlefield, there's always a risk that atrocities could be committed. Reuters reports that Ouattara-loyal forces have remained disciplined so far, though they have executed some Gbagbo militiamen, according to Human Rights Watch. And yesterday, the United Nations called on Ouattara to "rein in" his forces as they take final control in Abidjan. When I was in Liberia earlier this months, officials in the peacekeeping mission there were adamant that refugees fleeing into that country were of all political persuasions -- meaning that Gbagbo supporting civilians feared for their lives under pro-Ouattara forces, just as the opposite was also true.

The fog of war clouds everything for the moment; it's impossible to tell who is responsible for what -- and against whom. But it's important to look at all sides of the fighting, because  when the dust settles, Cote d'Ivoire is going to be torn apart. Civilians of all political persuasions are going to have horror stories to tell. And if only half the perpetrators are selectively brought to justice, it will be no justice at all; a society divided cannot be stable for long. 

For the last six years, Ivory Coast's government-controlled south and rebel-controlled north have held together thanks to a fragile cease-fire. Everyone's greatest fear since the cease-fire was signed was that it would break -- that the tiniest escalation could bring the country back into the brutal civil war it endured between the two sides throughout the first half of the decade.

Early Thursday morning, the cease-fire broke in Ivory Coast's interior. The government forces and the rebel forces -- known as the Forces Nouvelles -- started shooting. And they haven't really stopped since then. This morning, the Forces Nouvelles seized a government- controlled town.

The fighting in the countryside is a manifestation of escalating political conflict in the Abidjan. Outgoing President Laurent Gbagbo (backed by government troops) remains staunchly unwilling to step down to the internationally recognized election winner, Alassane Ouattara (backed by the Forces Nouvelles). On the streets and in the neighborhoods of Abidjan, things are also getting ugly -- or rather uglier. After weeks of rumors and reports that pro-Gbagbo militias were hunting down opposition supporters, now there are signs that the violence cuts both ways. Pro-Ouattara militias -- known to locals as "invisible commandos" -- have risen up in resistance. "Hundreds" of residents were seen streaming out of the neighborhood after overnight clashes.

Not so long ago, the West African community, ECOWAS, was talking about possible military intervention if Gbagbo refused to step down. But these days, there's only talk about a possible unity government between the two rivals -- a terrible idea, if you ask me -- and continued economic sanctions. The international community has done a pretty good job of trying to starve Gbagbo of cash. And in theory it's a good strategy, since much of his support comes from his uncanny ability to keep salaries flowing even in the trickiest times. But Gbagbo is not too easily caged, and is now considering printing his own currency. At the very least, he'll switch all the government accounts from sanctioned banks into hard cash.

As I've written before, this is the trouble with trying to wait out a strongman: You risk the very real chance that he can wait longer than his people can. While Gbagbo is busy finding ways to pay his military, regular Ivorians are getting tired. Shortages of food and cooking oil are now common; a whopping nine out of every 10 bank accounts is now inaccessible due to sanctions and freezes. Some 45,000 people have now fled the country as refugees, and another 39,000 are internally displaced -- 9,000 of whom are all based at a single Catholic mission near the border with Liberia, according to a briefing from the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees this morning.

Active fighting, refugees, economic crisis -- what other indicators are we waiting for? This is becoming a civil war again, and fast.

As revolutions across the Arab World are sending autocrats fleeing for exile, at least one ousted president -- far away from Cairo and Tunis -- claims he will soon return home: to Madagascar. Marc Ravalomanana, who was booted from office in a 2009 coup, vowed today that he would return on Feb. 19, leaving his exile in South Africa.

It's not clear what exactly Ravalomanana (shown sporting his plane tickets above) is hoping to achieve by showing up. Not least because he's likely to be arrested as soon as his plane lands; the current regime, headed by coup-instigator Andry Rajoelina, lobbed massive charges against him for corruption and convicted him in absentia. (To jog your memory: Ravalomanana's unseating was a particularly ugly one; the army surrounded the presidential palace and sent him fleeing. After weeks of stand off, he finally resigned, handing power over to the fiery ex-disc jockey who remains president to this day.)

That Ravalomanana wants to return is a potent reminder that this crisis was never actually solved. The African Union suspended Madagascar's membership in protest of the coup. But then once it looked like an irreversible development, everyone started to look the other way. There was a sigh of collective resignation. Time to just to put up with Rajoelina, and then expect elections to be held eventually. 

But now, elections are supposed to be held -- later this year. And African Union mediators have had trouble convincing the current regime to get on board with any transition plan. Having lost the momentum at the beginning of the crisis, outsiders are finding themselves helpless to try and pull strings toward democracy now. 

Maybe all this would be a shruggable matter -- if it weren't for the example it sets at a time when African countries need some better ones when it comes to democratic transition. A record number of African countries will hold presidential elections this year -- including Uganda tomorrow, then Chad, Nigeria, Djibouti, and Niger, to name just a few. None of those countries' leaders is apt to step down without a fuss (and several will make sure that election outcomes are sufficiently fixed before hand.) Turning the other way on little Madagascar makes that all the more likely.