AIRLINE passengers in the West are spoiled. For all our complaining about poor customer service and stingy legroom—grumbles that Gulliver is only too happy to partake in—we live in the golden age of affordable, accessible flying. If Ireland's Ryanair wants to launch an obscure route between Latvia and Slovenia, it is free to do so. The need to schmooze foreign officials and navigate a forest of red tape has been systematically eroded by decades of pan-European liberalisation. In this fully deregulated environment, passengers reap the spoils with cheap airfares. Not so elsewhere in the world. Especially not so in Africa. In Africa today, as in Europe three decades ago, bilateral restrictions rule the skies. Before an African airline can fly from its home nation to another on the continent, it must be designated as an approved carrier by both countries. For state-owned airlines, this process is relatively straightforward. For private sector start-ups, it can take years. Greasing a few palms may help. Further complicating matters, the number of carriers and the frequency of flights permitted on popular trunk routes is typically restricted. If several carriers already ply the route, tough luck. The upshot for passengers is depressingly familiar: low choice, high fares.

Bilateral air services agreements are not uncommon around the world—most regions operate the same way, Europe and North America being the exceptions. But nowhere else is the lost potential of liberalisation so sorely felt than in Africa. Commercial aviation offers a route to much needed economic development, by shuttling businesspeople and tourists around the continent to spend their money and do their work. According to IATA, an airline-industry group, cross-border deregulation between just 12 African countries would create 5m new passengers, $1.3 billion in annual GBP and 155,000 jobs.

Sixteen years ago, while Western travellers were becoming acquainted with the benefits of open skies, African policymakers laid down their own roadmap for liberalisation. The so-called Yamoussoukro Decision (YD) promised to create a single air transport market across Africa by 2002, tearing down existing bilateral regimes. It was signed by 44 member states of the African Union. What fibbers. Nothing has changed. Forgive Gulliver, then, for voicing scepticism at the African Union's new claim—triumphantly proclaimed at a meeting of the African Airlines Association in November—that 13 member states have re-affirmed their commitment to implementing YD by 2017.

There are good reasons for pessimism. Creating the conditions for efficient companies to succeed, by definition, means ensuring that inefficient ones fail. In Europe, the rise of Ryanair and easyJet was accompanied by the fall of Sabena in Belgium and Malév in Hungary. In America, it was Pan Am and TWA that fell victim to deregulation—or, more accurately, to their failure to compete in a deregulated market. And so it will be in Africa. Kenya, Egypt and South Africa—three of the 13 countries now supposedly committed to YD—all prop up flag-carriers that operate with heavy losses. Each survives on a combination of state bailouts and restrictive bilateral agreements that shield them from competition. Without these safety nets, their losses would spiral out of control. Sooner or later, their governments would have to pull the plug.

Why not simply allow them to fail? Two uncomfortable reasons. First, parastatals like national airlines tend to be a handy way for government officials to dish out jobs to cronies. Neither the beneficiaries nor the benefactors of this illicit set-up want to ground the gravy plane. Second, they invoke national pride. Flag-carriers are not ordinary companies. They are emblems of statehood; physical embodiments of the maturity of a nation. They allow dignitaries and government officials to hold their heads high when jet-setting to foreign lands.

This year, Democratic Republic of Congo and Djibouti became the latest African countries to resurrect their defunct flag-carriers. At least five others—Ghana, Nigeria, Somalia, Uganda and Zambia—are working to the same end. If these countries create commercially viable airlines, they will have done a great service to their people and economies. But if they keep their parastatals alive by suppressing competition and maintaining airfares at artificially high levels, they are guilty of the opposite.

Africa does have well-run airlines that would thrive in a deregulated market. Unsurprisingly, they are keen to be set free. “We have to copy the European model for aviation,” says Tewolde GebreMariam, the boss of Ethiopian Airlines, the continent's fastest-growing and most profitable carrier. “A billion people in Africa have to take this opportunity for them to grow, for them to trade, for them to attract tourism.″ It's a nice idea, but perhaps best he doesn't hold his breath.