Angola Dancing to a Tin Drummer

Angola remains mired in a seemingly endless war between the Marxist-Leninist government, led since 1979 by Jose Eduardo dos Santos, and the rebel National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (unita), headed by Jonas Savimbi and supported by South Africa and the U.S. After a decade the fighting drags on, with no prospect of victory on either side. TIME's Nairobi bureau chief, James Wilde, recently spent 15 days crisscrossing Angola. His journey took him from the U.S.-operated oil installations in the northern enclave of Cabinda to the capital, Luanda, where he was admitted to the presidential palace three times. His report:

A man dressed in a threadbare overcoat and a small boy in rags stand in a sewage-clogged shantytown street just outside Luanda. The man has no right leg, the boy no left. As the boy hammers out a rhythm with a stick on a battered tin can, the man begins to swing his shortened limb in time to the beat. Others join in. Some waggle truncated arms, others hop on withered stumps. Soon nearly 100 cripples are shaking their mutilated bodies to the beat of the weird tin drum.

The danse macabre is a reminder of the toll exacted by the ongoing civil war. By now some 20,000 civilians have lost limbs to rebel mines planted among crops, under footpaths and along dusty village roads. Thousands more have been killed by the rebels or by government troops on the prowl for guerrilla collaborators. Economically, the nation has also been left maimed. President Dos Santos concedes that the war has already cost his government more than $12 billion; 1 million of the country's 8.5 million people are on the brink of starvation.

In theory, the 100,000 soldiers of the Angolan army, backed by as many as 40,000 Cuban troops and more than 1,500 Soviet and East German advisers, should have gained the upper hand long ago. Luanda has received $2 billion in military hardware from Moscow in recent years; airports are crowded with Soviet assault helicopters and fighter aircraft, and ports provide havens for Soviet warships. Despite this mighty arsenal, some Angolan troops are in rags and many are demoralized. Observes a church worker who has lived in the country three years: "When things get tough, they peel off their uniforms and take to the bush."

Savimbi's 40,000 UNITA fighters, backed by an estimated 20,000 South African troops stationed across the border in the South African-controlled territory of South West Africa, or Namibia, have extended their operations to within 40 miles of Luanda. In addition to their military successes, the rebels scored a diplomatic triumph earlier this year when President Reagan welcomed Savimbi to Washington and promised him $15 million for new equipment.