Zimbabwe

The people of Zimbabwe turned out in impressively large numbers—the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission reported 70 percent of voters turned out—on July 30 to choose a way forward for their country. The election, the first without Robert Mugabe on the ballot, was billed as a chance to close a painful chapter in the country's history, and bring real legitimacy, at last, to the government. It was a moment of hope.   By nightfall on August 1, Zimbabwe's military had locked down Harare, the capital city. At least three civilians had been killed by security forces on the streets, and more were badly hurt—whipped, stabbed with bayonets, and beaten. Distrust, anger, and fear have replaced the hope and pride Zimbabweans expressed as they stood in long lines to exercise their franchise.    Some of the coverage of what is happening on the ground has an equivocal flavor to it. The story seems to be about unruly, impatient protestors, a situation spinning out of control, and "unfortunate" violence. But repression has been part of this political exercise from the beginning, and only one side of the political divide in Zimbabwe can activate it. The Zimbabwean military didn't turn on unarmed protesters spontaneously or accidentally. They were given orders to do so, and sitting president and candidate Mnangagwa cannot escape accountability for this decision.    Likewise, the coalition of “securocrats” and ZANU-PF stalwarts that seized power in November of last year made a deliberate choice not to repeal repressive, unconstitutional laws like the Public Order and Security Act, or POSA, that bring a veneer of legality to brutal crack-downs on dissent. They made a choice not to clearly assure the people of Zimbabwe that their will would be respected regardless of the outcome of the vote.    Of course, all parties should act responsibly as they await the results of the presidential election, and as they raise concerns about the unlevel playing field and the mechanics of the electoral process. But it's important to remember that power—in the form of a monopoly on the instruments of violence—has been exercised on the side of the ruling party from the beginning. The violence in Harare, echoing the all-too-familiar violence the country has seen in the past, was a part of that ongoing exercise.   

  Zimbabwe’s national elections took place on July 30, with the results expected by the end of the week. The media reports that the elections were peaceful, but this is mainly based on observations in urban areas—past election violence has been more common in rural areas. Reports from observers on the election process have been mixed. In some areas, polling appears to have gone smoothly, but in others it was chaotic. The leading opposition candidate for the presidency is Nelson Chamisa of the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC). At 40 years of age, Chamisa, a lawyer, represents a generational change from President Emmerson Mnangagwa, who is 75 and leads the ruling ZANU-PF party. Both candidates said that they will win and that election results not in their favor would suggest vote rigging. Credible conventional wisdom is that Mnangagwa is stronger in rural areas, Chamisa in the towns and cities.  A victorious candidate must win 50 percent of the total vote plus one. If there is no outright winner, the top two candidates will be forced into a runoff, which would take place on September 8. Mnangagwa and Chamisa ran neck and neck in preelection polls, and there are many analysts now raising the possibility, even the likelihood, of a runoff. For the first time in a generation, the country hosted foreign election observers, while Zimbabwean civil groups have fielded more than six thousand observers. What will matter for the preservation of domestic tranquility will be whether Zimbabweans themselves accept the election results. The high voter turnout, upwards of 70 percent of the electorate, is a good sign. Since coming to power in a coup against longtime tyrant Robert Mugabe late last year, Mnangagwa has led an international charm offensive designed to attract foreign businesses and roll back Western sanctions against the regime, all in order to rebuild Zimbabwe’s beleaguered economy. He has even applied for Zimbabwe to rejoin the Commonwealth of Nations. This effort is bounded by the need to preserve his domestic power against rival factions within his own party, as well as the opposition. Mnangagwa is a product of the tyranny of Mugabe. In fact, he played a primary role as the former president’s so-called enforcer, most notoriously during the Gukurahundi, a series of massacres against the Ndebele Zimbabweans in the 1980s that some consider a genocide. The basis of his power in the ZANU-PF was support among the Zimbabwean military and security services. His current vice president and fellow coup-maker is former Defense Minister Constantino Chiwenga. But Mugabe’s departure was not universally accepted in the party, and factions have emerged within the ZANU-PF, most notably a broad division between the military and civilian party members. Still, Mugabe, at 94, played little role in these elections. The day before the voting, he said he would support Chamisa rather than Mnangagwa. Mnangagwa promptly claimed that Chamisa and Mugabe had made a deal, an accusation they both deny. That episode does not appear to have had much effect. While the electoral playing field is better than it was under Mugabe, it remains by no means level. Despite some ZANU-PF factionalism, Mnangagwa still appears to control most of the security services and the state-owned media. Further, the opposition has raised questions about the voter rolls and the electoral commission’s impartiality. Chamisa is already claiming that voters in certain urban areas were unable to cast their votes. Mnangagwa needs these elections to be viewed favorably abroad to give credence to his international charm offensive. Hence, campaigning by opposition parties has been largely free from Mugabe-era thuggery. Mnangagwa would prefer not to rig the election, but if he sees it as the only path to stay in power, he will, likely at the point where vote tallies are consolidated. If the election is close and there is a runoff, Mnangagwa is likely to take the gloves off and the possibility of violence increases. The bottom line is that Mnangagwa will probably be the next president of Zimbabwe, by hook or by crook. If, through an unforeseen development, Mnangagwa fails in the election, the military will ensure that the next president of Zimbabwe protects its interests.   

Last month, Zimbabwean Permanent Secretary for Information Media and Broadcasting Services George Charamba told the press that Zimbabwe's upcoming July 30 elections are “an instrument of foreign policy.” This is a strange way to think about a democratic exercise, and it raises serious concerns about Zimbabwe's future.  When the military ousted former President Robert Mugabe in November 2017, the people of Zimbabwe judged that the benefits of change at the top surpassed the drawbacks of a military-led transition. Thus, they avoided calling the event a coup. Emmerson Mnangagwa, a longtime senior aid to Mugabe, became president, and the commander of the defense forces became vice president, reinforcing the military backing for the new order. Along with other ruling party stalwarts from the Mugabe era, they set about consolidating their new positions and recasting themselves as agents of change.  Since then, Mnangagwa's government has been on a relentless global charm offensive, enthusiastically expressing a desire to “rejoin the community of nations” and normalize Zimbabwe's place in the world. Their campaign is motivated not only by a desire for foreign investment to rescue the nearly bankrupt economy, but by an expressly stated desire for international legitimacy—the type that would make targeted sanctions disappear and trigger support from international financial institutions. While this appeal to the outside world has become the focus of a domestic electoral exercise, it fails to gain legitimacy in the eyes of Zimbabweans themselves.  Moreover, this prioritization of foreign relations is manifest in the election preparations themselves. The government of Zimbabwe has formally invited international observers, in marked contrast to previous elections. While this is a welcome development, they have been far less eager to ensure that arrangements are in place for domestic observers—for the people who actually possess the necessary language skills, historical awareness, and cultural context to understand what is happening on the ground. After weeks of delay, which prompted legal challenges and eroded confidence in the integrity of the electoral process, the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission finally released the voter roll, but only after it was too late to address any irregularities. It appears that the government of the United Kingdom, which has been markedly enthusiastic about Mnangagwa’s government, obtained a copy of the roll before opposition parties in Zimbabwe itself. This kind of discrepancy again raises real questions about whom this electoral exercise is really for.  None of this is lost on the long-suffering Zimbabwean people. They have noticed that those in charge seem more interested in winning the approval of an international audience than in winning the trust of the domestic population, choosing to relegate them to the cheap seats in their own country. It will be essential to listen to Zimbabwean voices, and to look beyond the election itself, for real evidence that democratic accountability and the rule of law are operational within Zimbabwe’s borders. Only then can the rest of the world assess whether real change has come. 

Over the weekend, an explosion rocked White City Stadium in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe, where President Emmerson Mnangagwa was campaigning on behalf of himself and the ruling party of the Zimbabwe African National Union-Patriotic Front (ZANU-PF) ahead of July 30 national elections. At least forty-nine were injured and two died as a result of injuries sustained in what appears to have been an assassination attempt. As shocking as the development is, violence has been a constant feature of Zimbabwe’s political landscape, and the prospect of violence has hung over these elections long before Saturday’s blast. Indeed, Mnangagwa won his presidential title last November through violence. Despite widespread domestic and international support for the military’s ouster of longtime President Robert Mugabe, it was force, not popular sentiment, that enabled Mnangagwa’s ascension and the “new dispensation” in Zimbabwe. Zimbabweans speculate endlessly on the degree to which the military remains in charge of the government today and, on a recent visit to Zimbabwe, many citizens described the military as the most fear-provoking institution in the country.  Of course, the politicization of violence is a tragic part of the country’s DNA. From the horrific violence of Zimbabwe’s liberation struggle, to the horrors of the Gukurahundi massacres of the 1980s (in which Mnangagwa himself is implicated), to the beatings, torture, and killings of political opponents of Mugabe’s regime in 2008 and beyond, political power has been sought and maintained through violence and intimidation.  Turning the page on this history would require a real reckoning with the past that, thus far, has proved unappealing to the powers that be. The National Peace and Reconciliation Commission formed in 2013 appears to have accomplished little thus far. The findings of the Chihambakwe Commission of Inquiry remain unavailable to the public. The government of Zimbabwe has explained that they do not wish to “re-open old wounds,” but the survivors of Zimbabwe’s political violence have not healed. Their collective wounds continue to fester, having yet to be disinfected with the sunlight brought by public accountability for the past.  As of now, the perpetrators behind this weekend’s attack are unknown. Zimbabwean politics are rich in intrigue and the rifts in the ruling party and among security services alone provide fodder for a multitude of theories as to who executed the attack and what they intended to achieve. Ultimately, one does not need to engage in wild speculation to conclude that this latest event undermines citizens’ confidence that the country’s future will be determined by their votes, and not the desires of those willing and able to force their will on the country. 

Ewodaghe Harrell is a Franklin Williams intern for global health, economics, and development at the Council on Foreign Relations. She received her master's in public health from Brown University in 2017. In November 2017, President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe resigned after thirty-seven years in power. He leaves behind a legacy of disastrous government campaigns and policies which rolled back social, economic, and cultural progress for Zimbabweans. Emmerson Mnangagwa, Mugabe’s successor and former vice president, has indicated that genuine change is coming, pledging to rebuild the country and “protect and promote the rights and people of Zimbabwe.” However, based on his recent cabinet appointments, some skeptics worry that Mnangagwa's government will be a continuation of Mugabe’s. Further, Mnangagwa is associated with many of the harmful reforms committed under Mugabe’s rule that led to the collapse of the healthcare system. To make good on his lofty, post-Mugabe promises, Mnangagwa must promote economic reform in order to to have a shot at transforming the healthcare system. Mnangagwa must address the key challenges in public health. Currently the majority of Zimbabwe’s health sector is understaffed and overburdened. Since 2000, an estimated three million people, including many health workers, have left the country in search of economic opportunity and better working conditions abroad. According to the WHO, there is an overall density of only 1.23 health workers per 1,000 people, which is half of the estimated minimum density of health workers needed across sub-Saharan Africa. In 2008, for instance, the health workforce was so small that a fast-spreading cholera outbreak contributed to over four thousand deaths and an estimated ninety thousand infections within months. Zimbabweans continue to experience challenges in combating communicable diseases such as tuberculosis, diarrheal diseases, and HIV/AIDS. The HIV/AIDS epidemic continues to be a significant public health problem in Zimbabwe, placing a tremendous strain on the health sector. In 2016, approximately 14 percent of the adults in Zimbabwe were living with HIV/AIDS, the sixth highest HIV/AIDS prevalence in sub-Saharan Africa. Zimbabwe’s Ministry of Health and Child Care estimates that 45 percent of women who died of pregnancy-related complications were HIV positive. Although maternal mortality has declined from 960 deaths per 100,000 live births to 614 deaths per 100,000 live births in recent years, the ratio is still unacceptably high. The high disease burden from preventable diseases is characteristic of most low- and middle-income countries, and is particularly a result of inadequate health financing. With billions of dollars of domestic debt and millions more in stolen public funds, Zimbabwe has in recent years relied on funding agencies to support public services. In fact, USAID has invested nearly $100 million annually in Zimbabwe to support health programs that provide treatment for and prevention of diseases and help make health care services more accessible to families.  To address these challenges, the government will need to first establish economic stability. Second, Mnangagwa must ensure the government prioritizes financing the public healthcare system and developing a comprehensive health strategy that targets the greatest health problems. Such investment in improving health services will require international support. Zimbabwe is facing considerable challenges, but if Mnangagwa takes reengagement seriously and if global partners continue to work with the health sector, the country will have the tools to make remarkable progress.   

Emmerson Mnangagwa’s post-Mugabe regime is consolidating its power even as it takes steps to open the economy. To that end, the new president has appointed as his vice president the former army chief, Constantino Chiwenga, the man who orchestrated the coup against Robert Mugabe that brought Mnangagwa to power. Further, Mnangagwa has announced the arrest of two ministers who supported the efforts to make Mugabe’s wife Grace his successor. Former foreign minister Walter Membi and former energy minister Samuel Undenge have been charged with “criminal abuse of office.” Former finance minister Ignatius Chombo has already been arrested, but all three are free on bail. Finally, Mnangagwa has ruled out any possible coalition arrangement with perennial opposition leader Morgan Tsvangirai, who is fighting colon cancer. Mnangagwa has, however, offered official help with Tsvangirai’s medical bills. In Harare and Bulawayo, Zimbabwe’s largest cities, the military has replaced police at checkpoints. Soldiers are better paid than police officers and are perceived to be less venial with respect to bribes and shakedowns. So, the substitution is likely to be popular with the general public and will also strengthen the new administration’s control of the country. Mnangagwa’s biggest break from Mugabe so far is in his concrete steps to revive Zimbabwe’s collapsed economy. To that end, he is seeking international investment and loans from international financial institutions. To bolster international confidence, he has started to return seized farms to white owners and his spokesman is saying that “land reform is over.” The Mugabe ban on foreign ownership of Zimbabwean assets has also been lifted, with only a few exceptions. Nevertheless, Mnangagwa and Chiwenga are both notorious for violating human rights while serving as Mugabe’s “enforcers,” most notably in the early 1980s in Matebeleland and in 2008 during elections. Chiwenga’s elevation to vice president is a signal that little has likely changed in the character of Zimbabwe’s leadership.  In the short term, Mnangagwa’s strategy of economic liberalization while maintaining Mugabe’s illiberal political system (despite some new faces at the top) is likely to work. It may encourage him to proceed with national elections in 2018, as international opinion is pressuring him to do so.

In what may be the beginning of a major policy shift in land policy from Mugabe’s regime, the Mnangagwa administration has ordered the return of Lesbury Farm in Manicaland to the Smart family, which had occupied it for eighty years. Manicaland is 165 miles from Harare near the border of Mozambique and is the second most populous province in Zimbabwe. In June, the farm was seized by heavily armed riot police from the Smart family and turned over to Trevor Manhanga, a bishop of the Pentecostal Assemblies of Zimbabwe and supporter of then-president Robert Mugabe. With the restitution to the Smart family, Chris Mutsvangwa—a leader of the Zimbabwe National Liberation War Veterans Association and an ally of Mnangagwa—said, “Land reform is over. Now we want inclusiveness. All citizens who had a claim to land by birthright, we want them to feel they belong and we want them to build new country because the economy is shattered.”  Under the Smart family, Lesbury Farm employed at least one hundred people, providing a livelihood for hundreds more extended family members of those employed. The Smart family was popular with the local people, in part because it paid its workers on time. The wholesale destruction of the commercial agricultural sector by the expulsion of white farmers gravely damaged the Zimbabwean economy and drove up rural unemployment. If the white farmers are to return to the land, commercial agriculture might quickly recover, with reductions in rural unemployment. Further, the return of farms might reassure potential investors in Zimbabwe that the Mnangagwa government will respect property rights. Such a policy shift would be particularly welcomed by the right wing of United Kingdom Prime Minister Theresa May’s Tory party, which has long supported the white farmers as a “kith and kin” issue. The June seizure of the farm followed a Mugabe speech in which the president called for all of the remaining white commercial farmers to be expelled from their land. Mugabe had made expropriation of white-owned land without compensation a central platform of his regime. According to Mutsvangwa however, with the economy again in tatters, economic pragmatism is apparently trumping ideology.

Zimbabwean media is reporting the details of the settlement negotiated by Robert Mugabe and the generals who ousted him as president. The deal includes full immunity from prosecution for Mugabe, $10 million, half of which will be paid immediately, the other half to be paid in installments over several years, full salary, medical costs covered by the state, body guards and other security, and full protection of his private property. After he dies, his widow, Grace, will receive half of his salary as long as she lives. According to Zimbabwean media, the deal was brokered by Roman Catholic priest Fidelis Mukonori and banker Gideon Gono. Many details remain unknown, such as what will happen to Mugabe’s children, who are notorious for their extravagance.  Apparently, the sweet deal does not apply to Mugabe’s former henchmen. The new Mnangagwa regime has arrested Mugabe’s finance minister, Ignatius Chombo, and two leaders of the ZANU-PF youth league. Other Mugabe cabinet members have scattered and cannot be accounted for. Patrick Zhuwao, the former minister of public service and a Mugabe nephew, has fled the country. The new regime justified its coup by saying it was moving against the “criminals” around Mugabe, not the president himself. Hence, it is likely that a few high profile Mugabe collaborators such as Chombo will be brought to trial. The lavish personal settlement for Mugabe supports the military narrative that it moved not against Mugabe but only the “criminals” around him. Over the past year, the Zimbabwean economy has collapsed yet again. Estimates are that more than 90 percent of Zimbabweans live below the poverty line. There are pockets of hunger. Estimates of Mugabe’s personal wealth—now protected—exceed $1 billion. Yet, there is no visible outrage over the size of his settlement, a reflection of his continued mystique as the senior leader of Africa’s liberation from colonialism.  

John Hosinski is the former senior program officer of the Africa department at the Solidarity Center. He is currently a freelance writer based in Paris, France. The rapid fall of Robert Mugabe and ascent of former ally Emmerson Mnangagwa stunned even those closely following the country’s long-running succession drama. The decisive end of the succession question caught many by surprise, including most Zimbabweans, who poured into the streets to celebrate the end of Mugabe’s thirty-seven year rule. The crowds on the streets testify to both the pent-up energy of people suffering through extended economic malaise as well as the much understood (if unstated) illegitimacy of Mugabe’s personal leadership. Decades of rigged and stolen elections, rampant corruption and nepotism, and outlandish propaganda clearly atrophied support for the nonagenarian president.  Though this is not a democratic transition, it’s clear there is rising public expectation that things will get better—particularly in terms of jobs. Managing the elevated expectations of the people will be a key test for Mnangagwa. He inherits the leadership of an economy that has barely managed to stay afloat. Zimbabwe likely lost over seventy-five thousand formal jobs annually between 2011 and 2014. Another thirty thousand were lost in 2015 and an estimated eighteen thousand in 2016. This decline highlights the country’s two decades of deindustrialization, when formal employment was curtailed in rail, industry, agricultural processing, and transport. This process has resulted in over 95 percent of the country’s citizens making their living through informal employment. These job losses, more than anything, withered what was once the country’s most viable democratic opposition, organized labor. With formal jobs and union membership in decline, it has been workers in the informal economy who not only help Zimbabweans survive economically, but have steadily become more organized and aggressive in their demands for economic access and rights. Street vendors and other informal workers, organized into membership-based organizations, embody both the entrepreneurial as well as associational traditions of Zimbabweans in the face of decades of downward mobility as well as the desire of people for more say.  Informal workers long garnered the negative attention of both Mugabe and the ZANU-PF. Seen as a base of democratic opposition, the government attacked informal workers in 2005’s Operation Murambatsvina (“drive out the trash” in Shona), razing informal markets and settlements and putting almost six hundred thousand people into immediate homelessness. In recent years, well-organized groups of street vendors have faced ZANU-PF authorities in Bulawayo and Harare in arguments over economic access and vendors’ rights, which were somewhat overshadowed by the public and media focus on succession infighting. These arguments often escalated to violent attacks on vendors and took on a more political tone, with Mugabe himself weighing in and threatening action. Zimbabwe’s informal economy is not only where most people earn their living but also where they spend their money and it is a critical link between urban and rural markets. Though President Mnangagwa faces a withered and splintered democratic opposition, a key test for him and his government will be how restive informal workers like street vendors and their associations fare in the coming years. The question remains whether these workers will have more access to formal jobs, rights, and economic opportunities, or whether Zimbabwe maintains an ossified, corrupt economy which only benefits the well-connected at the top.   

Friends of Zimbabwe hoped that President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s cabinet appointments would signal a shift away from the tyranny of deposed president Robert Mugabe. Instead, Mnangagwa’s appointments have signaled continuity, not change. No members of the opposition were included, and the most important positions went to military personalities. The foreign minister will be General Sibusiso Moyo, who announced the coup against Mugabe while insisting that no coup had taken place. Air Marshal Perence Shiri, the head of the air force, is to be minister of agriculture and land affairs. Like Mnangagwa, Shiri was deeply involved in the massacre of Ndebele in the 1980s. However, Mnangagwa is showing some flexibility. In the face of public outcry from the teachers’ unions, he cancelled the appointment of Lazarus Dokora and replaced him with Paul Mavina, and he also annulled his appointment of Clever Nyathi as labor minister in favor of Petronella Kgonye. It is not clear, however, whether Nyathi has been demoted. He has been appointed special advisor to the president for peace and reconciliation, an area in which he has professional expertise. While Kgonye has been involved in controversial land deals in the past, Zimbabwe’s constitution and political practice calls for consideration of gender, and Kagonye is a woman.  On the positive side of the ledger, a Zimbabwean court acquitted Evan Mawarire of charges of “subverting” the government. His #ThisFlag movement had organized large-scale protests against the Mugabe regime. Observers were watching his trial as an indicator of whether the Mnangagwa regime would respect the independence of the judiciary. It is too early to draw any conclusions regarding the Mawarire acquittal, but it is still a good sign.  Thus far, the Mnangagwa regime appears to be a continuation of Mugabe’s, albeit with slightly more flexibility. Mugabe and his ZANU-PF retains popularity in the rural areas, if not in the cities. If Mnangagwa introduces even a few reforms that are immediately visible and impact positively on daily life, ZANU-PF may win credible election when they are next held. An example might be Mnangagwa’s making permanent the replacement of police by the army at checkpoints. The police generally demand bribes, the army does not—at least up to now.   

Zimbabwe and South Africa are adjacent geographically and share a parallel history, but they are radically different polities. Not least, Zimbabwe is a tyranny, and is likely to remain so for the foreseeable future. South Africa is a democracy conducted according to the rule of law. Nevertheless, there are similarities, particularly between the two heads of state. In Zimbabwe, Robert Mugabe attempted to designate his wife, Grace, as his successor, while Jacob Zuma is sponsoring his ex-wife, Nkosanza Dlamini-Zuma, to succeed him as leader of the governing African National Congress (ANC) at the party’s national convention this month. In both cases, the choices appear to have been self-serving. Mugabe likely concluded that his wife could best protect his interests, and that of their children; in Zuma’s case, his critics plausibly view his motivation as avoiding criminal prosecution once out of office and protecting his considerable assets for his children. Both Mugabe and Zuma tried to insert their family members into the more or less mutually understood succession of a vice president to the presidency. In Mugabe’s case, his choice of Grace precipitated his removal from power by a military cabal within the governing movement, ZANU-PF. Will Mugabe’s downfall significantly influence the ANC party leadership race? It might. Mugabe had appeared invincible up until the moment of his resignation. Jacob Zuma, whose patronage/clientage networks and mastery of the internal politics of the ANC has enabled him to survive despite his deep unpopularity, has also seemed untouchable. But Mugabe’s fate shows that the fall can come quickly. Unlike ZANU-PF, the ANC has a significant, democratic dimension. Zuma’s successor will not be determined by a military cabal as Mugabe’s was, but rather by a party convention that will operate according to understood procedures. Zuma’s vice president and Dlamini-Zuma’s chief rival for the party leadership is Cyril Ramaphosa, who has significant party support. (It should be noted that Dlamini-Zuma is a significant political force in her own right.) Mugabe left office in the face of the threat of impeachment, which would have stripped him of his pension and all the other emoluments of a former chief of state. There are numerous grounds for impeachment of Jacob Zuma, which becomes a potential political reality if he loses control of the party. Like Mugabe, Zuma would probably resign in the face of likely impeachment, after which he would have to face the hundreds of charges against him. Will Zuma be able to continue his control of the ANC party machinery at the December party convention? If he can, then Dlamini-Zuma will probably win the party leadership, buying Zuma the ability to fill-out his presidential term, which ends in 2019. It is also likely that if the ANC wins the majority of seats in parliament in 2019, that Dlamini-Zuma will become the president. If however, deputy president Cyril Ramaphosa is elected party leader, Zuma will probably be required by the ANC to resign the presidency, though it might take some months for that drama to play out.  

Zimbabwe’s founding father, Robert Mugabe, ushered his country into independence, then established a tyrannical regime and presided over the destruction of the economy. He was ousted in a November palace coup.

It is in the interest of the ZANU-PF regime, now headed by former vice president Emmerson Mnangagwa, that blame for Zimbabwe’s ills be shifted from deposed president Robert Mugabe to his wife, Grace. Mugabe is a liberation icon, popular all over Africa, and his ZANU-PF regime still rules Zimbabwe. Therefore, Mnangagwa’s regime will endeavor to keep Mugabe on his pedestal, not least because of his residual icon status with other African leaders. Further, the military is representing its coup as an “intervention,” not against the president, but rather against the “criminals” that surrounded him. This is a scenario of ‘Don’t blame the king, instead blame the “evil counselors,”’ of which the most important was his wife, Grace. The impeachment charges that drove Mugabe to resign included that he had failed to keep Grace and her associates under control, not that he himself had engaged in criminal behavior. In Zimbabwe, the “wicked Grace” narrative is balanced by the “Amai” (mother) narrative of Sally, Mugabe’s first wife. She was known for her charitable work, and was as popular as Grace was unpopular on the street. According to this narrative, it was after Sally died, to be succeeded by Grace, that Mugabe went off the tracks. So, the grotesqueries of Mugabe, especially his last years, were the fault of a woman—not of himself. It is a variation of the “Adam and Eve” narrative. The snake persuaded Eve to eat the forbidden apple, and Eve convinced Adam. So, to blame for the 'Fall' are a woman and a snake—not Adam. In fact, the tyranny of Mugabe was the result of his own political skill and ruthlessness, and his tight alliance with the military and veterans of the liberation struggle, or the Second Chimurenga. Neither Sally nor Grace played much of a role in his mismanagement of the country. After 2014, however, Grace began angling to succeed her husband as president. It is when the military and the war veterans became convinced that she might succeed that they moved against Mugabe. She nominally precipitated the coup, but its root cause was Mugabe’s insistence on maintaining control even as he visibly declined with age. Grace, however, was known for her shopping, not her politics. Rather than overwhelming presidential ambition, it is more likely that she was her husbands pawn to maintain his power as his health progressively declined. He was pulling the strings, not her.  

Robert Mugabe resigned by means of a letter to the speaker just as parliament began debating his impeachment today. Earlier today, President Ian Khama of Botswana penned an open letter to Mugabe urging him “to do the honorable thing by voluntarily relinquishing power.” Khama was blunt: “the people of Zimbabwe have for a long time been subjected to untold suffering as a result of poor governance under your leadership. It is therefore my conviction that by vacating the Presidency, this will usher in a new political dispensation that will pave the way for the much needed socio-economic recovery in Zimbabwe.” As Khama acknowledges, an open letter is “not the normal method of communication between leaders.” Nor is it normal for one African chief of state to criticize publicly another. Botswana, it should be noted, is also a democracy conducted according to the rule of law, unlike Zimbabwe. Emmerson Mnangagwa, the vice president whom Mugabe fired, also called on the president to respect the “will of the people” and resign. Contrary to earlier reports, he remains outside of Zimbabwe at an undisclosed location. He is saying that he fled because of a plot against his life, and that he will not return until his personal safety is guaranteed, by whom was left unsaid. Now he will likely return post haste, as he is slated to be sworn in as president in the coming days.   Negotiations between the military, led by General Constantino Chiwenga, and Mugabe had been underway since he was placed under house arrest. Speculation had been that whatever deal was reached would include the return and reinstatement of Mnangagwa as vice president. One scenario had been that at a decent interval, perhaps at the December ZANU-PF congress, Mugabe would resign and Mnangagwa would become president. But such was the pressure on Mugabe from elements within the military and his party, as well as from the Zimbabwean people, that Mugabe concluded that resignation was the only way out. The fate of his wife, Grace, and his sons remains unclear. Mugabe’s resignation provides the military with a much-needed fig leaf of legality to cover what had in fact been a military coup. Up to now, the coup and Mugbe’s future have been an internal matter within ZANU-PF, but there were increasing popular demonstrations in Harare calling for Mugabe to go. The military and Mugabe himself may have concluded that it was no longer possible for ZANU-PF to keep the Zimbabwean people out, and the popular demonstrations indicated that they wanted him to go; this was confirmed by celebrations in the streets and in the house of parliament after learning of his resignation. President Khama of Botswana is correct in his assessment of the Mugabe regime. The ZANU-PF, formerly led by Mugabe and soon to be led by Mnangagwa, resembles in some ways a criminal conspiracy or a Mafioso organization. Most of the leading ZANU-PF actors in the Zimbabwe drama are under U.S. and EU sanctions for human rights violations, including Mugabe, Mnangagwa, and some 200 other political and military figures and their affiliates. However, the coup and Mugabe’s departure shows that change is possible, even as Mnangagwa, cut from the same cloth as Mugabe, is set to succeed him. It is too soon to tell what direction Zimbabwe will now take, but in the short term, continuity of governance is the most likely.   

Zimbabwe’s ruling party, the ZANU-PF, has expelled Robert Mugabe and it is demanding that he resign by today or face impeachment. On Sunday in an address to the nation, Mugabe made no mention of stepping down, and referred to chairing the next ZANU-PF convention in a few weeks. Negotiations between the military and Mugabe, supposedly facilitated by South Africa and a Roman Catholic priest, appear to be going nowhere. Meanwhile, Mugabe’s likely successor and former deputy, Emmerson Mnangagwa, has returned from South Africa. On the day of his address over the weekend, there was a huge (by Zimbabwean standards) anti-Mugabe demonstration in Harare. More details about the coup are emerging, though they do not change the fundamental narrative. The issue was a conflict within the ZANU-PF over the succession of Mugabe, who at 93 is visibly failing. One faction is close to the military and is headed by Mnangagwa. He is called “the Crocodile” and his faction is called “Lacoste,” after the clothing logo that uses the crocodile as its symbol. The other, called G-40, supported Robert Mugabe’s wife, Grace, to be his successor and includes politicians of a younger generation. Its name refers to its members’ age bracket, in contrast to Lacoste, which is dominated by politicians and generals in their 70s. When Mugabe came down on the side of his wife, the stage was set for the coup.  The definitive moment leading to the coup appears to have been the flight of Mnangagwa, first to Mozambique and then to South Africa, to avoid arrest after Mugabe removed him as vice president. This was apparently accompanied by Mugabe’s attempt to arrest the head of the army, General Constantino Chiwenga, at the Harare airport upon his return from China on November 12. The New York Times reports that Chiwenga had been tipped off about this when his plane landed, and his soldiers at the airport prevented the police from arresting him. The coup then followed on November 13 and 14. On his trip, Chiwenga may have briefed the Chinese of the impending military intervention.  It is becoming clear that the War Veterans Association, a political proxy for the military that enables it to maintain a “non-political” stance, played a major role. Its head, Christopher Mutsvangwa, went to Pretoria and briefed South African intelligence with the goal of persuading the Zuma government not to describe the foreseen military intervention as a coup, reports the New York Times. It looks like he was successful, as no South African official statements have used “coup” to describe the events in Zimbabwe. What happens next? The ZANU-PF dominates parliament, which is voting to impeach Mugabe either today or very soon. If he is impeached, it is unclear if he would accept the parliament’s decision and go quietly. Would the African Union and Southern African Development Community, which reflect Africa’s strong opposition to military coups, accept the impeachment as legal? Or would they continue to recognize Mugabe as head of state? African opposition to coups has become Mugabe’s strongest card. Another may be the police, with which Mugabe has cultivated a close relationship. A violent confrontation between the army and police could be a disaster. The best solution continues to be a bargain between the army and police in which Mugabe steps down from power, if not necessarily from office. There are no “white hats” in this drama. Mnangagwa was Mugabe’s enforcer. He directly participated in the 1980s slaughter of Ndebele rivals of Mugabe’s Shona ethnic group, and he is widely feared. Even if Mugabe goes, his regime does not, and there is little evidence that Mnangagwa would be any improvement from the perspective of human rights and the rule of law.