Inside Mugabe's Zimbabwe - Part 2

A terrorist never changes his spots

Crossing the Limpopo was the first time I have consciously experienced what Natan Sharansky terms a fear society. While images of economic collapse are ubiquitous, physical manifestations of Mugabe’s oppressive rule are much harder to find. In fact the only first hand evidence I had of Zimbabwe’s totalitarian regime was the numerous ‘police’ check points along the road to Bulawayo.

Ragged Zanu PF youth sporting luminous orange bibs with the label ‘Police’ are charged with the responsibility of searching all vehicles for illicit diamonds and gold (Mussolini’s Black Shirts could certainly have taught them a thing or two about dress code). But even these mini-Mugabes were far from menacing: their smiles were constant and they never missed an opportunity to send us on our way with the soothing words ‘enjoy your stay in Zimbabwe’.

Behind this façade of happy natives and courteous officials, however, lies a much more sinister reality. Through my interaction with double-thinkers and outright dissidents I was able to get a sense of the fear that such a reality emits. I was particularly shocked by a conversation I had with an elderly African man who had worked for my extended family for more than half a century. He told me that the spirits had become bad and it was time for him to go home (to his farm in a more rural part of Zimbabwe) to die. I attempted to press him on his veiled assertion about the deteriorating political situation. He responded by scolding me (not out of anger but unmistakable paternal like concern): ‘you must not say too much, otherwise you end up with a bullet in the back of the head’. And he would know. For his nephew who was an outspoken senior government official died under contested circumstances. The official cause of death was a car crash but his family question why then his body, which they saw in the casket, was riddled with bullet holes.

So how did it come to be that one of Africa’s most educated post-independence leaders is today one of Africa’s most brutal tyrants? I put this conundrum to one of Zimbabwe’s leading political analysts. His answer was surprising: a terrorist does not change his spots. The means, he went on, are important for he, who pursues what is perceived as a just cause ruthlessly, can pursue an unjust cause just as ruthlessly. And so it was with Mugabe.

Brutality has been a constant trademark of Mugabe’s leadership. During the liberation struggle against white minority rule in Zimbabwe, his forces committed numerous war crimes. Perhaps the most barbaric was the massacre of defenceless missionaries at St Paul’s church (Masuimi) in 1977. In his first decade as Zimbabwe’s president, Mugabe was responsible for the genocide of the Ndebele in Matabeleland in what has been referred to as Gukurahundi. His North Korean trained 5th Brigade is estimated to have slaughtered up to 20,000 civilians. And today he continues to use violence to squash opposition to his rule.

Many in South Africa (mainly Whites) ask why our country will not go the same way as our northern neighbour. They normally cite the ANC’s almost absolute political power and increasing disdain for criticism as early warning signs. And while I too am concerned by these authoritarian trends, the ANC decision not to resort to terrorism (deliberate targeting of innocent civilians) even in the darkest days of Apartheid gives me hope for South Africa’s democratic future. President Mandela always made it clear that the means were as important as the ends. We need to ensure that his successors live up to his example.

Previously at IAS
Inside Mugabe's Zimbabwe - Part 1
Inside Mugabe's Zimbabwe - Intro

Comments

[THE DICTATOR / EMBITTERED CORRESPONDENT]

On a practical level, do you think that there is anything that we can
do to help bring about democratic government in Zimbabwe? Is there
anything that civil society in South Africa can/should do?

[Mike]

I think we could bring an end to the situation in a week and without firing a shot. That will be the subject of my next post. So Anthony, you will just have to hold on to that thought.