The Christmas coup in one of the most stable countries in Africa, Cote d'Ivoire, took everybody by surprise - including, if they are to be believed, the French government and the leader of the coup itself. However, as Paul Michaud reveals, there is more to the story than anyone would like to let on.

It began as a series of otherwise banal events. The Ivoirian military went on a protest march to demand payment of an unreceived bonus. Then there were reports of the kidnapping of a respected army officer's wife. Both were precursors to a coup d'etat that nobody thought possible in a country considered as one of the most politically stable in Africa.

Since its independence in 1960, Cote d'Ivoire had become the cornerstone and showpiece of France's 'African empire' and one of the continent's more prosperous economies.

The 23 December coup took almost everybody by surprise. Reports indicate that not only were France's military, intelligence and diplomatic services caught on the hop but the man who turned out to be the putsch's principal author and beneficiary, Brigadier General Robert Guei knew nothing of his forthcoming role.

He later revealed that he was quietly preparing to celebrate Christmas at his village of Gouessesso, in the eastern part of the country. The 58-year-old French-trained officer was informed that his wife, who was still in Abidjan, had become the target of a kidnapping attempt by disgruntled members of the Ivoirian army. He rushed to the Ivoirian capital to take matters under control, not knowing, he said, that he'd be saving his wife from kidnappers but also toppling Henri Konan Bedie.

For those of you sceptical about a story which sees a man going to his nation's capital to see his wife after a kidnapping attempt and then suddenly ends up in charge of the country, good for you. What was most surprising about the coup was how everybody, including the new president - known to friends as 'Le Boss' - 'knew nothing about it'.

A closer ear to the diplomatic murmurings in Paris several months earlier would have revealed that the French government was becoming more and more unhappy with President Henri Konan Bedie, especially when a delegation turned up to explain why he would not let an opposition politician run in the presidential elections.

But it was the arrival of three Ivoirians almost simultaneously with Bedie's official spokesmen that became the greatest cause for suspicion. Alassane Ouattara, the politician Bedie was intent on banning, had made his way to Paris having decided to flee Cote d'Ivoire in fear for his life. He only returned to Abidjan shortly after Guei's coup. Laurent Gbagbo, head of the PSI (Parti Socialiste Ivoirien), a favourite of French Socialist Party and a longtime nemesis of Bedie, also turned up.

The arrival of the third Ivoirian political personality, whose identity has been kept secret until recently, surprised everyone. General Robert Guei was observed in the French capital in late November and early December, only returning to Abidjan two weeks prior to the coup. Speculation is thus rife that the French had engineered, or at least supported the coup. After all Guei himself has said repeatedly that "the story behind the coup is still to be written".

Guei's track record certainly portrays him as a worthy candidate for a coup plot. A respected former military chief, he has a chequered political past and was seen as a nemesis of former President Henri Konan Bedie. Geui became Cote d'Ivoire's military chief in 1990, but he was fired in 1995 after criticising President Bedie for using the military to suppress student riots.

He went on to be appointed minister of sports, but President Bedie dismissed him from the Cabinet for unknown reasons shortly after the Atlanta Olympics in 1996. In 1997 the president ordered him to be removed from the military after allegations he had tried to plan a coup two years earlier.

Bedie had been the French-designated successor to Cote d'Ivoire's founding-father Felix Houphouet-Boigny, who had dominated politics for over 30 years.

After his arrival in Abidjan, Guei said he was surprised at the popular support the mention of his name evoked in the streets. He lost no time in taking control of the situation and on Christmas Eve, he declared the existence of the military junta, the Comite National de Salut Public (CNSP). He also announced Bedie's deposition and eventual departure for Lome and Paris (where he arrived 3 January). The general became known, literally overnight, as Pere No‘l - Santa Claus.

In this first phase, Guei announced that he'd simply taken over power at the request of the Ivoirian military. Then, little by little, he began hinting that when elections are eventually held - June perhaps but more likely in October according to the original pre-coup schedule - he could very well be one of the candidates.

Guei has taken on a communications adviser, Georges Ouegnin. Ouegnin had performed the same task for Henry Konan Bedie and for Felix Houphouet-Boigny himself, for whom he was also director of protocol. When, on 5 January Guei announced the composition of a transitional government, he awarded himself a number of strategic positions: defence minister, head of the CNSP and President de la Republique. Other essential posts went to such long-standing 'friends' such as General Lasana Palenfo, who becomes minister of security and General Abdoulaye Coulibaly, who was privy to Felix Houphouet-Boigny, notably as the Ivoirian head of state's personal pilot.

The biggest opposition party in Cote d'Ivoire - the Ivoirian Popular Front - has ended its boycott of the government formed by the new military junta.

All four of its appointed ministers attended a cabinet meeting in the capital Abidjan.

Despite the surprise the coup generated, which seemed a welcome one for the man in the street, trouble had long been brewing. The country had become one of the most corrupt in Africa. One example was the discovery two years ago of $30m of European Union grants pocketed by officials of the Ivoirian Health Ministry. An increasing number of missions sent to Abidjan by donor organisations such as the IMF and EU had recommended that their assistance be frozen or cut back. At the time of General Guei's coup, Cote d'Ivoire was reportedly receiving only 10% of the monies promised by the donor organisations.

Between aid cuts and the precipitous drop on world markets of cocoa and coffee prices (the country's principal exports), the country's exchequer was bare. The nation's military and bureaucrats, whose salaries totalled $60m a month, had not been paid for several months. One of Guei's first steps upon proclaiming himself the new head of state was to suspend payment of the country's external debt (estimated in 1997 at $15.6bn). This allowed him to find the 3.5bn CFA Francs ($60 million) to pay the salaries of the country's military and civil service employees.

Guei also announced at the time that he was sending a letter to the Banque de France, the French central bank, demanding that it provide him with a list of suspicious accounts belonging to the Cote d'Ivoire government or any of its representatives.

Apart from the dire financial situation of the nation, people had become increasingly tired of Henri Konan Bedie. His plans to build a basilica, casino and four-lane highway in his home town of Daoukro in the central part of the country did not please the nation. In part it reminded them of Houphouet-Boigny's own grandiose structures built in another Baoule tribal town, Yamossoukrou.

More recently, Bedie had grown unpopular with French officials who had been his traditional source of support and who had frequently gone to bat for him with the IMF, EU and World Bank. The most recent source of friction with the French was Bedie's campaign to rid himself of his major rival in next October's presidential elections, Alassane Dramane Ouattara ('Ado'), the former Ivoirian prime minister. Until last July, Alassane Ouattara had been the number two man at the IMF in Washington, giving him a strong international profile. He also has strong popular support in Abidjan and the northern parts of the country.

But Bedie had been determined to cut short Ouattara's chances of election and had run a vicious campaign slandering him, even arguing that he had no right to Ivorian citizenship. When his delegation arrived in Paris to explain to the press and government the reasons behind his government's decision to deny Ouattara his Ivoirian nationality, French officials including Africa advisers to Socialist PM Lionel Jospin and Gaullists close to President Jacques Chirac, said they'd had enough and hinted that Bedie might best be sacked. The opinion was also shared by US Africa specialists at the Department of State and the White House who indicated a desire to see Bedie gently removed from office.

It was then the unexpected guests turned up, including 'Le Boss'. Might his presence explain France's apparent unwillingness to come to the aide of Bedie, the man that the French - and notably former French ambassador to Cote d'Ivoire Michel Dupuch, who today is President Jacques Chirac's principal Africa adviser - had handpicked and groomed to replace Houphouet-Boigny?

Might also Guei's presence in Paris explain France's decision to allow Bedie to come to France - where he arrived on 3 January and where he has an apartment - at number 1 Rue Beethoven in the luxurious 16th arrondissement - but on condition that he avoid all contact with the press, as well as his former ministers or any other persons possibly interested in engineering his return to power?

And, while Henri Konan Bedie was being cut off from the world by the very French officials whom he thought interested in his remaining in power, General Robert Guei was in Abidjan, surrounded by French advisers, openly meeting with press, public and his own military.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about this coup was the surprise.