exit the king

After 27 years and countless abuses of power, is it time for Robert Mugabe to go?

Mugabe’s moustache is more than just bulldada . It’s the symbol of a political spectacle that reads like an absurdist play: a freedom fighter turned despot; a promised land turned basket case; a people chasing a dream of human dignity, only to find themselves stuck in a nightmare of oppression, deprivation and need. Hitleresque personal grooming and frequent gestures that the international community can ‘go hang’ mean we automatically see the 83-year-old autocrat as a fascist dictator. However, this wasn’t always the case. In 1980, a landslide victory in the African nation’s first democratic elections saw Robert Mugabe ascend to power as the Prime Minister of a newly independent Zimbabwe.

In liberal circles around the world, people hailed the ‘miraculous’ transformation of Zimbabwe as the government embarked upon extensive education programs, aggressive land redistribution policies, and pointed constitutional reforms. Zimbabwe emerged among of a small group of African countries to cast off the shackles of colonial apartheid and begin the long march towards a prosperous, autonomous future –and Robert Mugabe was the hope of the side. Here was an Oxonian, an anglophile, a man who read The Economist, played cricket, and took tea.

However, the West’s enthusiasm for the South African leader abated as the promise of a free Zimbabwe remained unfulfilled. By 1982, political opposition had spilled into violence as government police forces ‘clamped down’ on dissenting rural towns, killing 20 000 people. By 1987, constitutional reforms had criminalised government criticism, curtailed freedom of assembly and expression and nationalised all major media. By 1992, land reforms had still not yielded equitable land redistribution, and more than 27 000 million pounds worth of targeted aid towards the distribution remained unaccounted for. Since then, punitive members have only compounded Zimbabwe’s isolation, as “smart” sanctions and international outcry have done little to curb corruption, poor governance and human rights abuse.

Today’s Zimbabwe is a wasteland that bears little resemblance to the nascent democracy of 27 years ago. Opposition parties work under constant intimidation and the ‘free’ press cannot print any thing with government approval. The economy is ‘a basket case’: at an estimated 1 7 00 % inflation, the exchange on local currency often changes by the end of the day. Despite strikes provoking constant adjustments, salaries are often worthless and many survive on monthly loans with interest of up to 50%. Gideon Gono, Zimbabwe’s reserve bank governor, has warned that the economy could sink ‘to levels never dreamt before’ as the government struggles to keep essential services afloat. In this environment, business tries to hold government to ransom, with the electric company ostensibly telling Gono: ‘If you don’t give us money the nation will be in darkness.’ Foreign investment has all but left the company as the country’s two biggest industries, tourism and tobacco have collapsed.

Social indicators, too, are terrible. Many hospitals have lost more than half their doctors and nurses often come to work only twice a week because they can’t afford bus fares. Bulwayo’s main hospital, the UBH, is unable to treat patients unless they bring their own medicine. ‘We have patients dying of dehydration for want of a drip’, he says. ‘We can’t treat diabetes any more, The nurses are unhappy because there are no gloves when they are handling patients with AIDS.’ The rate of HIV infection has risen to 5.5 million, and 1.1 million of Zimbabwe’s children have been orphaned by AIDS. Average life expectancy has plummeted from 60 years in 1990 to just 37 in 2007. In the same period, infant mortality has risen from 53 to 81 deaths per 1 000 births. Average annual income is US$340, compared with US$ 4 960 in South Africa, and 56% percent of the population are living on less than 1 US dollar a day. Most of those who can have left the country, seeking better fortune in Britain, South Africa and Zambia. However, even leaving the country is difficult when 300 000 people have been left waiting for their passports due to government a shortage of paper and ink.

Against this backdrop, the Opposition has been gaining momentum. The Movement for Democratic Change, lead by former trade union leader Morgan Tsvangirai, has been enjoying a resurgence in popular support due to the ailing economy. Yet under a regime where Mugabe has ‘emptied out the state and filled it with the military’, even rhetorical challenge is dangerous. In the past week, more than 200 opposition activists have been abducted from public streets and beaten in what the secretary of the MDC describes as ‘terror tactics’. ‘We aren’t breaking the law so they can’t prosecute us.’ Tendai Biti says. In place of prosecution comes brutal vigilante violence.

The victims range from MPs, opposition leaders, MDC members and human rights activists. One in three are women. One local chairman, Leonard Dendera, was abducted, whipped and branded and left with so many broken bones he finds it difficult to sit down. They said: 'You are an MDC giant and we are going to beat you until you die,'" he said. "Then they branded me. I lost consciousness and when I came around I was next to a road." A white mark was burned into his forehead, above his left eye. "They said it was so they would always know who I was when they saw me on the street," he said from a Harare hospital bed. "It was a threat. I must stop opposing Robert Mugabe and if they saw me doing anything next time they would kill me." Despite this, the MDC Secretary General remains optimistic, saying: ‘These vigilante beatings are a demonstration that they are running out of options.’

It’s true that optimism about Zimbabwe’s political future is not completely naïve. The beating of Opposition Leader Tsvangirai and other activists at an anti-Mugabe rally in mid March provoked international outcry. In an environment where the media is closely monitored, many feel that the leak was coming from Mugabe’s own inner circle. Divisions in the ruling Zanu-PF party were particularly evident in late March, when Vice-President Joyce Mujuru was one of several cabinet ministers to resign. While popular gossip hears the leader referred to as madala, or old man, the party committee rejected Mugabe’s proposal to delay elections until 2010.

Despite this, Robert Mugabe’s future as Zimbabwe’s President seems secure. He’s proven a past master at securing the popular vote. The 2002 tactics of violent intimidation, food bribes with party registration, and an all-time low of voter participation (just 31%) look likely to get him elected again in 2008. In the mean time, Zimbabweans have no real alternatives for the future. Many are nostalgic for their identity as great-postcolonial hope of the past. In this difficult position, politicians and civilians alike find themselves in the awkward position of chanting: The king is dead! Long live the king!