̽��ֱ�� of Cambridge - Zimbabwe

Reporting from Zimbabwe: why the sanctions must be lifted

amb206 — Sat, 24 Aug 2013 15:00:00 +0000

I’m sitting in a stuffy office in Bulawayo’s business district, struggling to get reliable internet access, while listening to young people’s accounts of their disheartening attempts at entrepreneurialism. On the desk in front of me is a pile of national newspapers filled with conflicting reports of the recent Zimbabwean elections. In some ways, this picture sums up how Zimbabwe comes across to the outside world: difficult to connect with, flailing economically and endlessly contradictory.

On Thursday, Mugabe enjoyed the rapture of his seventh presidential inauguration. Today the controversy surrounding the Zimbabwean elections is fast dropping off the international news agenda. There has not been a repeat of the situation in 2008, when there was loud international condemnation of the electoral process amid economic turmoil and accounts of widespread and violent voter-intimidation. Even the opposition leader, Morgan Tsvangari, has retracted his challenge to the results in the constitutional court – most likely because he is aware that there is not the momentum to make his challenge viable. This weekend, the world’s attention is already elsewhere, as Western governments and observers focus on Egypt and Syria.

Non-violent elections are not particularly newsworthy, especially in the current climate of coups, revolutions, and counter-revolutions sweeping North Africa and the Middle East. But I do wonder how much more attention Zimbabwe would be getting internationally if Tsvangari had won the July elections. Understandably, international observers are moving their attentions elsewhere, confounded that Mugabe has somehow survived what appeared to be political self-destruction just a few years ago.

As a student of social anthropology, my instinct is to try to connect the attitudes of ordinary Zimbabweans to the machinations of international diplomacy. Considering how the international community should deal with a politically resurrected President Mugabe, in the light of the daily reality in Zimbabwe, is an important exercise.

A month ago, there was much talk here of the European Union lifting sanctions if the August elections passed “freely and fairly”. Verifying the elections was complicated from the start by the barring of UN and Western observers; instead, Western nations were forced to rely on observers from the African Union (AU), as well as those from neighbouring countries under the auspices of the Southern African Development Community (SADC).

Responses to the elections have been mixed and unclear, especially to those within Zimbabwe. Government and opposition media outlets produce absurdly differing accounts. ZBC Radio, the government-controlled radio station, regularly announces that another nation has “proudly endorsed the people’s revolutionary mandate given to His Excellency Comrade Robert Gabriel Mugabe”. Radio listeners were told that the vice-president of China, Li Yuanchao, was flying in for the inauguration to “celebrate democracy in a sister republic” – but it turned out that a smattering of minor officials turned up in his place. Neighbouring Botswana, on the other hand, defiantly spoke out against Mugabe’s victory, and it seems that there is now a diplomatic scuffle underway between the two SADC members.

Despite the difficulties surrounding election observation, the official account currently circulating here is that the elections were “free but not fair”. This verdict in itself poses another series of challenges – it is not clear how the international community should engage with the Zimbabwean government now that there is such a fuzzy picture of the elections. To lift the sanctions would clearly not be politically palatable for the West, eager not to endorse Mugabe’s rule. It seems that the sanctions will quietly remain in place, and the US State Department has indicated it has no intention of loosening them at the moment.

Mugabe may no longer be quite the pariah he was five years ago, but there is not quite the impetus to rehabilitate him and his crooked regime at present. If anything, I would suggest that “ushering him in from the cold,” as David Smith recently suggested in the Guardian, is simply not worthwhile for the international community considering that he is almost 90. Sometime in the not too distant future the international community will be dealing with his successor; perhaps then relations with the outside world will stand a better chance of rehabilitation.

̽��ֱ��current situation with the sanctions is not ideal for reasons other than diplomacy. Despite the fact that the sanctions are designed to target the elite – travel bans and asset freezes for Mugabe and 250 or so of his inner circle – the ultimate subjects of diplomatic actions are some 12 million Zimbabweans who have endured extreme economic turmoil for over a decade. Within Zimbabwe, however, it is widely thought that that the sanctions have done much to bring about the country’s economic decline, a notion enthusiastically promulgated by Zanu-PF in its propaganda. Sanctions provide an easy explanation for the economic situation – one that deflects responsibility from the ruling party.

̽��ֱ��finger of blame for economic crisis is, therefore, pointed firmly at the West. As a close friend said to me over dinner recently: “If Zanu-PF have been successful at anything, it’s been the circulation of the idea that the West has an agenda.” Although an unlikely suggestion outside Africa, the so-called Western agenda is firmly attested by many in Zimbabwe. That “agenda” is to keep poor countries like Zimbabwe down, through sanctions, enforcement of debt repayment, trade barriers, and IMF/World Bank structural adjustment policies. In this interpretation, these factors serve to reinforce the political and economic dominance of the West, while inhibiting, and actively prohibiting, growth in Africa. To many ordinary Zimbabweans, these actions are also uncomfortably reminiscent of colonial rule and imperial meddling.

̽��ֱ��ultimate problem with sanctions is that they weld economic issues to political ones. Whether or not sanctions actually affect the economic reality for people on the ground, they are perceived to make people’s everyday livelihood harder to ensure. And once the West has initiated the dialogue in terms of sanctions, it’s hard to get out of their stranglehold. ̽��ֱ��West is forced to continue discussing the ‘democratic deficit’ in Zimbabwe in terms of which commodities should be withheld, or which bank accounts should be frozen. This doesn’t make sense to ordinary Zimbabweans, and it’s easy to see why.

During my three weeks in Zimbabwe, I’ve spoken with a widely diverse range of young people as part of my research – members of both Shona and Ndebele ethnic groups, university graduates and high school dropouts, township-dwellers and wealthy urbanites, NGO founders and aspiring entrepreneurs. ̽��ֱ��desire to be free of sanctions, and to assert a renewed, positive image of Zimbabwe, is something that genuinely unites all these people across demographic divides.

Removal of the sanctions would improve the situation for everyone I’ve spoken to on various fronts. It would be a boost to Zimbabwean pride and attitudes towards the Western world, and simultaneously remove the sanctions as a scapegoat for Mugabe’s problems. It would partly clear the path for foreign investment, by giving Zimbabwe an international stamp of approval. It would not so much usher Mugabe in from the cold as usher in the country from a period of being a notorious international pariah – a label that Zimbabweans have come to feel is bitterly unfair.

Most crucially, it would lead the way for diplomacy framed in terms other than sanctions. There’s only so much longer that one can wonder how the world would have looked if Tsvangari had won. It’s time for a dose of realpolitik in the West’s attitude towards Zimbabwe – which must start by lifting the sanctions.

To protect the identity of the family with whom she is staying, Rowan Jones is a pseudonym. For more information about this story, contact Alex Buxton, Office of Communications, ̽��ֱ�� of Cambridge, amb206@admin.cam.ac.uk 01223 761673

̽��ֱ��Zimbabwean elections will quickly drop off the international news agenda. In her third and final report, anthropology student Rowan Jones ponders Zimbabwe’s place in world politics and its complex relationships with the West.

̽��ֱ��desire to be free of sanctions, and to assert a renewed, positive image of Zimbabwe, is something that genuinely unites people across demographic divides.

Rowan Jones

Mugabe and Tsvangari campaign posters on Bulawayo's Main Street, August 2013.

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Reporting from Zimbabwe: a visit to Harare’s biggest township

amb206 — Sat, 17 Aug 2013 08:00:00 +0000

My first day in Harare is a blur of opulence and finery at the city’s only five star hotel, Meikles, which sits proudly on its own private road defended by armed guards. This is the kind of lifestyle that the ruling elite enjoy, and it seems miles away from the Zimbabwe that I have become familiar with.

I’m here to attend a conference as part of my research, but as the meeting draws to a close I’m somewhat relieved to escape the rows of crisp white tables, lunch buffets, and circular chitchat to see the city as it ‘really’ is. I leave, dashing out into the roaring traffic to meet a friend of my grandfather’s, who is sitting in his shiny development agency pick-up truck.

Andreas has been living and working here for 30 years. He responds rather wearily to my initial question: “When did you first come to Zimbabwe?” “I came here in 1982, just after Independence. But it’s my home now. I have lived here longer than I did in Europe. I’m part of the country.’

He introduces me to his secretary, Mosie, who is smiling broadly from the back seat. She cackles with laughter at most of what is said between us, and she’s particularly amused when Andreas jumps a red light. No-one else on the road seems to notice his transgression.

As our first few minutes of conversation lurch about, Mosie keeps bursting out the word ‘Mbare’ from the back seat. At first I’m not sure what her interjections mean. ‘Mbare. Please, Mbare!’ Andreas turns to face her and says: “You want to take her to Mbare? I’m not sure if she will want to go.” He faces me. “How do you feel about visiting Mbare? It’s our biggest township.”

I agree, curious to see the city’s other side. Mosie’s enthusiasm is palpable. As we approach the township, Andreas explains that it’s famous for its vast market. “You can buy anything there, including the parts they stole from your car the night before!”

We jump out, and quickly we’re immersed in the chaos of the market. Andreas is right – everything is here, often in the most bizarre combinations. Someone sells workman’s overalls alongside net curtains, another stall displays barbed wire alongside laundry powder - and a third proffers tomatoes along with mobile phone cases.

In the market, it’s not so evident that this country faced such acute economic crisis only a few years ago. In fact, its bustling nature is probably testament to the slump in the formal economy. Back then supermarkets were completely empty, and street-traders met the demand for goods, seizing the chance to develop the black market. By late 2008, the so-called ‘informal economy’ was the dominant means of exchange for most people, and Mbare has flourished ever since.

As we wind through the endless corridors created by the tight-knit shacks of market-sellers, I notice lots of people wearing lime green t-shirts with the words, ‘Indigenize, Empower, Develop, Employ’, across the back. A single word is emblazoned on the front: ‘Revive’. At first this puzzles me, but I realise later that it’s a Zanu-PF slogan. Mugabe is often quoted saying exactly these words.

Listening to Mugabe’s speeches is a bewildering experience. They’re full of the rhetoric of ‘indigenization,’ the process that seeks to make black Zimbabweans the dominant economic stakeholders in the country. He’s been repeating these statements for at least 15 years. This policy led to the expulsion of most foreign investors from the country and was used to justify the ‘invasions’ of white-owned farms that began around 2000.

Mugabe continues to blame (not entirely without reason) economic sanctions and the ‘imperialist’ policies of Western governments, primarily those based in London and Washington, for the country’s financial plight.

To the outsider, it seems that a multitude of other factors initiated the country’s downward spiral: the government’s expensive involvement in the war in the Democratic Republic of the Congo in the late 1990s; the unbudgeted and continuing handouts to war veterans; the annihilation of the commercial farming sector caused by farm invasions; and the government’s reckless printing of more and more and more currency to cover its mushrooming costs.

These factors never appear in any of Zanu-PF’s official statements; it continues to blame the scheming West for attempting to destroy the defiant nationalist government. In Mugabe’s first post-election broadcast on Monday, he exclaimed: “We are delivering democracy on a platter. We say take it or leave it.”

There’s a madness and mania to this kind of language that somehow seems to work. If you don’t buy it, this rhetoric simply goes straight over your head; to you and me, Mugabe’s speeches appear to have the hallmarks of insanity. But the crucial part is that if you relate to this language, every utterance is deeply meaningful and painfully truthful.

As we come to the edge of the market, Mosie invites me to her family home. We are approaching what seem to be large, post-war housing blocks, the kind not unfamiliar in the UK.

But as we enter the first corridor, the stench of rotting food and human waste is almost overwhelming. ̽��ֱ��floors are covered in puddles of stagnant water that reflect the long, unlit walkway. We climb up to the fifth floor; I notice that the roof the floor above, which is the top storey, has mostly fallen in.

Mosie’s family house is just one room, like every other residence in this building. A curtain divides the room in half, separating the living space from the sleeping area. A sofa and two well-worn armchairs occupy most of the space. Six people sit on these; all of them live here. ̽��ֱ��opposite wall is piled almost to the ceiling with cooking equipment, food, brooms and various other indicators of human life. It’s hot, and it smells bad. ̽��ֱ��air is heavy and humid.

A space is made for me on the sofa, and I’m offered a biscuit, which I gratefully accept. Everyone speaks a smattering of English, and conversation is initiated with the rather direct: “Do you believe in God?” I answer in the affirmative, which is the only real option if I am to stay here any longer, and I notice the Christian pop music playing in the background. ̽��ֱ��chorus repeats: “Jesus is my candle and salvation.”

There are numerous Christian denominations in Zimbabwe, many of them unknown to most people in the UK. When people ask me what denomination I am, and I answer Anglican, they always want to know what type of Anglican. I explain that there are fewer types of churches in the UK, and that I attend my parish church. Mosie’s older brother replies: “Ah yes. In Zimbabwe we have many, many churches!”

I’m curious about this, so ask him why he thinks there are so many. He answers as if it is obvious: “Because God uses poverty as a weapon to get people to church.” I look down at my hands, suddenly uncomfortable and aware of my comparative wealth. I hear Mosie’s mother say the word “dollar”, which Mosie snaps back at, but I know she wants to ask me for money.

When I leave half an hour later, uncertain about what’s the right thing to do, I produce $10 from my purse. ̽��ֱ��adult family members beam at me, and take it in turns to shake my hand. Mosie’s mother even starts to cry, but Mosie is quick to tell her off. Their response is overwhelming and conflicting. I know my $10 will do nothing to alleviate their poverty – by next week it will be gone. Even more so, it will do nothing change the fact that Mbare exists. I feel sad, confused and out of place.

As we leave, Mosie’s father leads me down the stairs. Mugabe’s face grins from the back of his shirt, a reminder of the 2008 presidential election. I hear later Zanu-PF have just won the Mbare constituency. This place seems riddled with contradiction and uncertainty. I don’t know if I can tie together all the threads that hang loose around Mbare, Harare, and Zimbabwe. There doesn’t seem to be any easy way to fit together all the pieces that I’ve seen of the puzzle.

̽��ֱ��elections that took place two weeks ago were somehow rigged; that much is clear. International consensus is now that they were ‘free but not fair’ (whatever that really means). One hears a lot about ‘irregularities’ and ‘assisted voting’ in the papers, but no-one is entirely clear on how the election was won.

It is crucial to understand, however, that not every vote for Mugabe was achieved by beating people senseless or stuffing the ballot boxes. He has, amazingly, retained (and even regained) a firm support base, and there are many who delight in his frenzied monologues. Although we are now over 30 years from independence, race still plays a crucial dynamic in Zimbabwean politics, and it is this that Mugabe continues to seize upon with so much success.

Mbare residents have many reasons to abhor him: their neighbourhood has suffered particularly brutal onslaughts. June 2005 saw the infamous government ‘Operation Murambatsvina’ that literally bulldozed small enterprises, like the homemade stalls of Mbare township, and crushed most of the places where these sellers had operated. It was an attempt to control by destroying even the smallest industry that had clung on through the years of degeneration. It’s generally thought that Zanu-PF was paranoid that the opposition, Movement for Democratic Change (MDC), was winning support here. ‘Operation Murambatsvina’, which translates as ‘operation to drive out rubbish’, was an attempt to crush support for MDC by destroying people's livelihoods.

Despite this, the only election posters I see here are for Zanu-PF. Many people wear t-shirts emblazoned with Mugabe’s image, just like Mosie’s father. This is not somewhere I would readily bring up politics, but it’s clear that there is support. It seems likely that Mugabe retains people’s support on the basis of his racial and anti-colonial rhetoric, which evidently retains a deep and powerful appeal for many.

̽��ֱ��‘indigenization’ programme has garnered a lot of support from the poorest Zimbabweans. ̽��ֱ��world, viewed from another angle, makes sense that way. ̽��ֱ��painful irony for me is that Mugabe now occupies the same position of privilege and ‘oppressor’ as those he has spent his entire life condemning.

That evening as Andreas and I drive back to his house, it occurs to me that Zimbabwe is once again a one-party state. Having gone through a tentative few years of the Government of National Unity, in which MDC shared power with Zanu-PF, the dominant party has now regained control. Morgan Tsvangari has lost (or rather, failed to win) three consecutive elections – and his political career is effectively over.

MDC’s inclusion in government gave Zanu-PF another scapegoat – Tsvangari. MDC continues to be accused of being a puppet of the West. ̽��ֱ��problems of the last five years were simply deflected by Zanu-PF onto their rivals. This is what Mugabe meant when he said on Monday: “We found we were dining with and sharing our bed with thieves. We will never give thieves the power to rule.”

There has been much talk of a ‘second liberation’ for the people of Zimbabwe, now that MDC has been defeated. This may sound like the hyperbole of a madman, but there are thousands, if not millions, who remain loyal to a man that his put his country through so much. Understanding that Mugabe still has support, even from those who have clearly suffered under his rule, is critical to understanding Zimbabwe. Loyalty to him is still widespread, especially so among the poorest. For 30 years he has successfully cast himself as the revolutionary war hero who liberated his country from oppression, and it seems to still be working.

To protect the identity of the family in this report, Rowan Jones is a pseudonym. Other names have also been changed.

For more information about this story, contact Alex Buxton, Office of Communications, ̽��ֱ�� of Cambridge, amb206@admin.cam.ac.uk 01223 761673

All images credit: Rowan Jones

In the township of Mbare, anthropology student Rowan Jones finds a complex picture of poverty and propaganda - plus a baffling level of support for Mugabe. In her second report from this troubled nation, she digs into recent political history to make sense of what she encounters.

“We are delivering democracy on a platter. We say take it or leave it.”

Mugabe gives his first post-election broadcast

Rowan Jones

̽��ֱ��communal area between Mbare housing blocks. Inside the one-roomed homes there are no toilets or sanitation facilities, so washing and laundry happen in communal areas. Many families prefer to cook on open fires, which occupy empty ground between block

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Licence. If you use this content on your site please link back to this page.

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