Abidjan — Laurent Gbagbo has been described by most commentators as the 'opposant historique' of Ivory Coast - the historic political opponent. Why? Because he was about the only one who took the trouble, publicly, to oppose the late President Felix Houphouet Boigny, who at his death in 1993 had been on the throne for 33 years, since independence in 1960. Then Gbagbo's opposition was purely symbolic, there was no chance of him winning or becoming president.
When this reporter met Laurent Gbagbo, 10 years ago, the day after the first democratic elections in Ivory Coast, he looked very much the fiery university history professor, a confirmed socialist in his mid-40s. His hair was much bushier than it is today and much blacker. In those days the barons of the governing PDCI, Houphouet's party, referred dismissively to the leader of the Ivorian Popular Front (FPI) as a youthful firebrand.
Not so the Laurent Gbagbo of the year 2000. The hair has gone and what's left is silver; in a dramatic downcut no doubt to mask a rapidly receding hairline. And now he's 55. But a touch of the firebrand remains.
It was an emotional Mr Gbagbo, with a diffident smile, who took the oath to serve his people and his country on Thursday, watched by his wife Simone Ehivet who wept uncontrollably. And then it was Laurent Gbagbo's turn to pass judgement on those of the ageing PDCI leaders still alive who witnessed the swearing in. Smiling and a little smug, the first president of the Second Republic saluted the men he called 'les dinosaures' - the dinosaurs.
At his last campaign rally, just one short week ago, Gbagbo wowed his supporters with that deep, passionate, gravelly voice - that always sounds as if he is about to lose it because he has shouted and talked too much, or as if he has been smoking since he was 12. "GBAGBO, GBAGBO, GBAGBO," chanted a cavernous hotel conference hall full of mainly young men in unison, wearing t-shirts, caps and head scarves with their hero's profile emblazoned on the front. He looked as ecstatic as they did, dancing and singing in his honour. Gbagbo even joined them and danced a little for the benefit of the cameras, of which there were plenty.
But there are those who have branded Laurent Gbagbo a traitor. They accuse him of selling out to General Guei, by having agreed to FPI ministers serving in the ousted military government, and for jumping on the tribal bandwagon. "When it suited him", one disgusted aide of Alassane Ouattara told me, "he had an alliance with Ouattara's party, the Rally of the Republicans (RDR). But he repudiated us and called Alassane a foreigner when he realised he might be beaten in the elections".
Laurent Gbagbo shrugs his shoulders and still insists that Ouattara - the former prime minister under Houphouet, who was disqualified from standing as president on 22 October on the grounds of nationality - is not Ivorian but from neighbouring Burkina Faso. "Where in the world do you find someone who was a very senior civil servant in one country, taking up a retirement post of president of the republic in another?", quips Gbagbo, in response to his critics.
The two men seemed to make up their political quarrel - at least a little - when they met Friday morning, after both their parties called for rival supporters to stop attacking each other with sticks, stones, bricks and in some cases bullets. "Les freres enemis se recontrent" - "the brothers who are adversaries have met" - trumpeted the local media, though Ouattara is keeping his people out of Gbagbo's new coalition government for now. Ouattara is still insisting on a rerun of the presidential poll, though he has recognised Gbagbo as de facto president.
Other politicians are cooperating with President Gbagbo. The Gbagbo residence, turned presidency, in the leafy Riviera neighbourhood of Abidjan, resembled a royal courtyard on Wednesday night. The reinstated electoral commission had not officially announced his victory, but Gbagbo held court with anyone who was anyone in the army, the paramilitary and the outgoing government coming to pay allegiance to their new boss-in-waiting.
The gracious Gbagbo couple - in their unfinished three-storey house - received us all, journalists, family and big shots alike, with the same ready smiles. The ladies of the house ran around feeding anyone who wanted a plate of fragrant rice and 'poulet yassa' and filling glasses. They were busy eavesdropping on the many loud mobile phone calls about burning barricades and charred corpses, conducted in between mouthfuls of chicken breast and drumsticks.
And suddenly the house was bristling with guns and cocked rifles as the generals moved from indoors to an open-air paillotte, followed by attentive military bodyguards. This was followed by an impromptu passing of the guard by a president not yet sworn in and some loud shushing to quieten a spontaneous praise song from a group of women singing "Plus haut, plus haut, Gbagbo il est plus haut..." ("Up and up and up, Gbagbo has reached the top").
Sign up for free AllAfrica Newsletters
Get the latest in African news delivered straight to your inbox
Simone Ehivet and Laurent Gbagbo met in the 1970s, when both were committed socialist activists. They have seven children from their current and previous marriages. Mme Gbagbo says it's been a long road, "but we made it". She says her husband's main weakness is that he is too generous. Then she laughs and adds, "well I suppose it's both a weakness and a virtue". When he is not busy, Laurent Gbagbo likes to play the guitar and the piano and share jokes with his children.
But there will not be much time for family life over the next few weeks. President Gbagbo, and his new national unity cabinet, must get straight down to business. Gbagbo may have worked hard at becoming president of Ivory Coast, but he will soon find out that being in opposition is easier than being in government.
Gbagbo is the leader of a political party and has been a vocal member of the opposition benches in parliament, but he has never been a government minister. Now he will have to stop playing at being a "pretend" president and do the real job. With the legacy of a nation divided on political and now ethnic and religious lines, actually governing Ivory Coast may prove much harder for Laurent Gbagbo than just talking about it. And the people are waiting to see what he makes of it.
