On the grand list of twentieth century despotisms, Equatorial Guinea will not receive much notice. As many Americans know of it as know of its two neighbors on the western shore of Africa, Gabon and Cameroon. It is the kind of country lampooned by Jeff MacNelly in a United Nations parody: its ambassador will wear war paint and carry a blowgun.
Bishop Rafael Maria Nzรฉ Abuy, one can tell, has looked hard and long for the humor of it all, but it has eluded himโbeginning, perhaps, in 1969, the last year he set foot in Equatorial Guinea. Bishop Abuy, who was in the United States to publicize the fate of his people, looks dapper in his grey suit, neatly pressed, with contrasting white collar. His features are rounded, prosperous. His face, though, is slightly solemn, and his story is told (through interpreter Adolfo Obiang) in staccato Spanish, with the hardened fervor of the exile. Which he is.




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