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The story behind Zim’s opposition mass protests
Tawanda Foto
MENTION of mass protests invokes images of toyi-toying, stone-throwing men, women and children in running battles with the police and, in some cases, the army. Teargas explodes in pockets, choking demonstrators and passersby scurry for cover.
Police details disembark from their vehicles to remove barricades from the roads. when the fury abates, normally towards evening, we get reports of hundreds of protesters having been arrested.
The local and international media critical of the government swoop on that and tell harrowing stories of how brutal the government has been in dealing with people, “mere trying to exercise their democratic right” by demonstrating against “the excesses of the illegitimate regime”.
Diplomats gather at their residences and in offices and arrange to compile hasty reports to their headquarters, while the protesters’ leaders get accolades in the most glowing terms and are recommended for prizes for their “bravery” for standing up against a government that has no respect for human rights.
This is how protests have been playing out in Zimbabwe. And, just having stepped into the new year, we might see the record playing a wheezy encho.
Just as last year was fizzling out, Nelson Chamisa, the spokesperson for one of the MDC factions, indicated that his party (on the assumption that the opposition party is still intact), would this year embark on massive street protests to dislodge the government of President Robert Mugabe, stating boldly that “they” were prepared to lose leg and limb in the process.
These are the words from the young man: “There will be mass arrests, injuries and agony. But that is the price we should be prepared to pay for our freedom because next year we are going to be as confrontational as we have never been before.”
Chamisa was apparently taking a cue from his chief, Morgan Tsvangirai, who had earlier on told 40 diplomats in Harare that his party would make people pour into the streets to remove the government.
This, of course, would not be the first time that Tsvangirai and his lieutenants have called for or engaged in mass protests.
The philosophy of mass action gathered momentum among those opposed to the government from 1997. Then, it manifested itself through angry trade union activism, coinciding as it were with a growing global tendency towards “empowering” civil society.
Tsvangirai, who at that time was the secretary-general of the Zimbabwe Congress of Trade Unions (ZCTU), managed to whip popular emotion and was at the centre of the waves of street demonstrations that took place from then. That was the time the economy started sliding down. (At the end of 1996, inflation stood at around 17 percent and that was considered too high).
Seeing how responsive the people were, he grew bigger ideas, which culminated in the formation of the MDC in late 1999. Since he had risen on the crest of protests, Tsvangirai never grew out of the mode, and is still crouching on that apex.
From 2000, Zimbabwe has been a theatre to the mass protest play, whose theme seems to have mainly fed from the “Mugabe must go peacefully, or we will remove him violently” speech that Tsvangirai rolled out at Rufaro Stadium in 2001 during a May Day address, but a speech he had been repeating from the turn of the century, albeit with different words.
The fang of that speech is being bared once again. When he addressed the diplomats cited above, he said: “There can be no compromise or surrender. Mugabe must unconditionally yield or face decisive mass action from the people.”
Perhaps the most famed of the street action was the Final Push of 2002, in which the MDC, then moving as one organism, intended to mobilise the people to march to State House and ostensibly remove President Mugabe from power.
This was after the presidential poll which Tsvangirai, with approval from some international friends, argued had been rigged.
The Final Push was a failure, because only scores of people heeded his call. Quite interestingly, Tsvangirai himself stated that he did not come out to lead the people to State House because he was afraid of dying. (Maida kuti ndiende pamberi kuti ndigofa?) Together with civil society and labour (especially the National Constitutional Assembly (NCA) and ZCTU, there have been repeated attempts to stage street protests.
These, also, have not been heeded, with the NCA at one time managing to convince only 17 people to lobby for a new constitution. the organisation called it a success.
But given the failure of the attempted mass protests in the past, why is it that the MDC (to read Tsvangirai’s faction) has resolved to leave 2006 strewn with injured demonstrators? Why are the likes of Tsvangirai and Chamisa choosing to tread the path of confrontation?
They say that it would be the most effective way of effecting “regime change”, but the real answer seems to lie elsewhere. Fine, it is given that they want a change of government, which translates into them getting into power.
But in all that talk, they seem to lose clarity of paradigm. Just recently, the Tsvangirai version of the MDC decided that they would not participate in the senatorial elections, a position which, as we all know, led to the debilitating cracks in the party.
The likes of Welshman Ncube and Gibson Sibanda, who are now leading the other camp, chose to take part, in as much as the MDC had run in the March 2005 parliamentary elections and other plebiscites from 2000.
In all these elections, the MDC lost to Zanu PF, and as Ncube at one time admitted, the continued failure to dislodge Zanu PF had led to fatigue and disillusionment among the people who had been courted on the basis of protest and a promise of accelerated change in the political dispensation.
So, for the Tsvangirai camp, that is as far as the legitimate means of changing governments should go.
Yet there seems to be another reason why the Tsvangirai faction is re-working the mass protest agenda. The split that has occurred in that party, following quarrels over whether or not to participate in the Senate elections, could also have motivated the renewed calls for disobedience. The Ncube faction is in the process of building structures in the districts and the provinces, just like the Tsvangirai faction is doing.
All this is happening ahead of the MDC’s much-delayed congress, which we hear will be held early next year.
The split that followed the senate quarrel eroded the confidence of the MDC followership.
More particularly, it dealt a huge dent on Tsvangirai’s political ego, given the type of undressing, sometimes childish, from people who had all along been considered his allies.
With the congress coming, hoping it does, there is need on the part of Tsvangirai to gain as much grassroots support as he can get.
It is a well-known fact that politicians tend to survive on the basis of trivia and emotive manoeuvering. Therefore, for him to be guaranteed the support he needs to survive the congress, he has to do what the man in the street wants to see or hear: talk about and be seen to be pro-active in the scheme to remove President Mugabe.
There is an obvious danger in choosing the route of confrontation, though. To start with, there is not much hope in that kind of modus operandi, considering the historical proof of failure.
But, more importantly, there seems to be a loud hint at civil disobedience, which easily translates to civil strife or, more appropriately, civil war.
Those that are lobbying for mass action might have lost the real meaning of their threat, and could possibly, though with futility, argue that that is not what they mean. It is extremely difficult to sustain a refutation of that nature.
People will pour into the streets. And then what? They will throw stones and shout obscenities at the Head of State. And then what? That will not force President Mugabe to flee the country, will it?
Assuming people heed the call to protest and do it, not in the quick fix way that Tsvangirai talks about, there is bound to be incremental unrest.
Obviously, no government the world over stands by as the country slides into deepening chaos.
Governments are custodians of state security, love them or hate them. There will be arrests. The likes of Tsvangirai will cry foul, louder and talk of state repression. Already, the State security minister, the Home Affairs Minister, Kembo Mohadi, and police chief, Augustine Chihuri have fired the warning salvos.
“We will not allow anyone to protest against the Head of State…Members of the opposition now advocating the resurgence of political violence should know that no kid gloves will be used in the future.” This is what Mohadi had to say to the planners of the protests.
The cry of repression is in fact where the whole catch lies. The media will be extremely happy to have found stories to last them months, by way of hard news, opinions and features. Traditional critics will salivate at the prospect of Zimbabwe being brought before the UN Security Council, the AU, or even the Hague.
The safest conclusion to draw here is that Tsvangirai has realised how slim his chances of throwing banquets at State House are. The best thing to do, therefore, is to discredit the government.
Protests are used the world over to galvanise sympathy towards organisations and individuals. We have seen it before and in abundance.
That is why those organisations and individuals have to wait for major summits to trickle into the streets waving placards. It is not as though they do not have their grievances on a daily basis.
But, of course, lobby can be placed in two categories: progressive lobby and destructive lobby. The former refers to activism that is meant to construct, while the latter is blind, localised and built on selfish persuasions.
Discrediting the government in order for it to go is one thing. Working towards the general good of the people is another. When the former becomes an obsession, at the expense of the welfare of the citizenry, it becomes very disturbing.
You can never erect in disorder. Neither can you yield from disorder. After the madness of every war, people sit down to count their losses, never the laurels. That is the trend the world over.
By ratcheting with the agenda of mass protests, the MDC would have clearly lost the plot.
Opposition political parties are vital for modern day democracy. They provide checks and balances and act as the political watchdogs. That is their functional essence.
Of course, the issue of being in power extends from that. The opposition ought to prove itself to the electorate before starting nursing visions of strutting up and down the corridors of State House.
It ought to identify the needs of the people and convince them that they provide a better alternative. The MDC, in particular, should demonstrate visibly its capacity to mend the economy and bring bread onto the table and smiles to the faces of the electorate. It should demonstrate that it is a party to trust, a party that would make every Zimbabwean feel proud to be so.
Outside that and as is unravelling, it runs the risk of being dismissed as a directionless conglomerate of power-mongering infidels who just want to exploit the emotions of the people.
In any case, the impatience that Tsvangirai is displaying is not only baffling, but naïve also.
Looking around Africa, there is no instantiation of a party that gets formed today and gets into power the following month.
Tsvangirai himself has said it publicly, and one hopes not too innocently, that he is happy that the MDC did not get into power immediately after its formation, saying its lack of preparedness would have been just what the disaster buffet would have needed.
So, why the contradiction now?
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