It is hardly salutary for a
leader that is known for indecisiveness to be caught in any
uncomfortable situation that requires judgment.
Tichaona Zindoga
It must be worse for Morgan Richard Tsvangirai, leader of the opposition MDC-T, who now faces a five-way conundrum which will determine the fate of the outfit that currently is facing a second split under his watch.
How
Tsvangirai will handle five critical decision points will define the
course of politics in Zimbabwe and seal Tsvangirai’s place in the
history of the country, for better or for worse.
Granted, since
Independence in 1980, Tsvangirai has been the only politician that has
managed to shake the political landscape that has been dominated by the
liberation movement fronted by Zanu-PF and President Mugabe.
The
formation of the MDC in 1999 provided excitement to a political culture
that was beset by complacency and at some point even entertained the
idea of a one-party state.
The MDC was supposed to be a worker’s
party – and stayed true to the definition and ideology in the initial
years, witness its support in urban areas, although there was a strong
identification with the white farming community who provided the money,
and Western ideologues.
In the intervening years, the MDC would
shed off its worker base to become a melting pot of elements opposed to
Zanu-PF, with Western interests becoming louder and louder while
Tsvangirai fronted both Western and opposition interests.
The student movement, also under socio-economic stress, would look up to, and boost, the political muscle of Tsvangirai.
But the initial push failed in the period between 2000 and 2005.
Cracks began to emerge, resulting in the split of October 12, 2005.
Yet
Tsvangirai retained the top seat and in 2008, aided by Western
sanctions on Zimbabwe, the MDC leader had a taste of State power by
securing a place in the inclusive Government.
It would prove a costly miss.
Five
years later, in July 2013, his party dismally lost elections and the
aftermath of the elections is set to test the character of both
Tsvangirai and the opposition movement in Zimbabwe.
Infighting has
again reared its head and Tsvangirai now stands at a crossroads: his
next steps will shape the country’s politics forever depending on how he
manoeuvres five questions.
Intra-party unity: The MDC-T house today resembles a
Royal Rumble match more than it does a political party. For those
unfamiliar with Royal Rumble, it is a wrestling TV show initially
produced by the World Wrestling Federation, in which, according to one
definition, a number of wrestlers aim at eliminating their competitors
by tossing them over the top rope, with both feet touching the floor.
The winner of the event is the last wrestler remaining in the ring after
all others have been eliminated.
The wrestlers may form weak
alliances but at the end of the day, all contrive to be the last man
standing. MDC-T has all the ingredients of a Royal Rumble. Tsvangirai
seeks by means fair and foul to be the last man standing. Will
Tsvangirai pursue the Royal Rumble or will he call it to halt?
Diplomacy:
Tsvangirai is not his sexiest at the moment to his Western donors and
diplomatic friends, from the British Embassy to George Soros. Lately, he
has been castigating these forces for interfering in the affairs of his
party. Will he cut the umbilical cord with the Western founders and
funders? What kind of policies will he pursue afterwards? It is a make
or break decision that he has to take.
Tsvangirai may choose to
continue playing the puppet, under even more constraining conditions, or
choose to break free and court a new politician that can brag about
independence. Either way the stakes are high.
Funding:
This is closely linked to the above. It would seem Tsvangirai, already
suffering from dwindling resources, has been toying with the idea of
finding alternatives to Western funding.
Tsvangirai's (hapless) panacea:
his supporters could sell goats and chickens to fund MDC so it becomes
more independent. The only problem with that is there will not be any
legendary seas to be conquered. There won’t simply be enough.
Grassroots support:
The idea that Tsvangirai has grassroots support has been such a
comforting prospect for him. When factionalism began to shake the party,
Tsvangirai resorted to seeking solace in captive crowds and party thugs
in Harare to reassure him.
Such gangs have been denouncing
Tsvangirai’s internal opponents like Mangoma, even mocking him for being
disabled. Tsvangirai loves that. They will kill for him. However, far
from the mad, rented crowds, Tsvangirai will need to ensure that he has
the numbers.
Already, if the party splits, it means that
Tsvangirai will have roughly a third of the party’s supporters. Such a
trajectory, honed by Tsvangirai himself, does not seem to promise a
fruitful future for him.
Strategy: Whatever the
outcome of the present malaise, the future of opposition politics will
depend on what strategies the main party will employ amid the ever
diminishing returns. Biti tells us that MDC-T’s “change” message is
tired. Perhaps so too are promises of some rich white friends coming to
rescue us poor Zimbabwean folk. The Western friends, if they still are,
are broke themselves. Whither opposition?
Friday, March 14, 2014
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Morgan Tsvangirai is now desperate man
It is now very telling that he appeals to his opponents, with nothing but his ego and fame as bargaining chips.
Tichaona Zindoga
Desperation; it’s like one can see the word written on the wall. It is a tough time for Morgan Tsvangirai, the leader of the opposition MDC-T. Having lost successive elections in the last 15 years, the last of which was on July 31, 2013, he now stares a split in his party as internal opposition to his leadership grows.
The reasons for this growth in opposition are largely because of his electoral failures and the manifestation of a repressive and undemocratic streak in his character.
Over the weekend, Tsvangirai made a curious call that betrayed his desperation as the captain of a sinking ship.
He called on ex-members who left the party and have gone on to form their political parties to come back to his “tent”.
He called on Job Sikhala, a one time legislator on an MDC ticket, who went to join a splinter party and later formed his own MDC-99, to come back into the fold.
He appealed to Welshman Ncube his bête noire in the acrimonious 2005 split; Professor Lovemore Madhuku, erstwhile comrade in the elusive “people-driven constitution”
(in Madhuku’s terms, of course) and now leader of a political party morphed from the National Constitutional Assembly.
The desperation is palpable.
It can be dissected in at least three ways: one, this is a call coming from a man defeated and hopeless.
Such a call could have sufficed — when made in good faith — before July 31.
Tsvangirai would not make such a call, or appeal with an acceptable degree of honesty, when he thought he was going to win the election.
It is now very telling that he appeals to his opponents, with nothing but his ego and fame as bargaining chips.
The second way in which Tsvangirai betrays desperation lies in the substance of the men he is calling on to join him.
They are all electoral losers and Lovemore Madhuku is even failing to set up the political party that he controversially conceived from the NCA.
The project already has been hit by desertions of (perceived) key personages like Takura Zhangazha and Blessing Vava.
Ncube may have been at the helm of an organisationally better MDC but he too proved to be an absolute failure ideologically.
And besides, Ncube has time and again refused, at least publicly, to go back to Tsvangirai owing to personal and ethical differences with the latter.
So, why would Tsvangirai make the appeal?
It may sound ironic that he seeks partnership with those outside when he is failing to hold on to members inside the party.
It can be noted, though, that Tsvangirai, in the unlikely event that these guys heed the call, requires some numbers around him to boost his ego, swell his party loyalty,
delay any precipitous congress or vote of (no) confidence and eventually push dissenters out.
Tsvangirai needs to buy time as he seeks to marshal his increasingly tenuous hold on the levers of power.
The third and probably most poignant indicator of Tsvangirai’s desperation is his invocation of God in his self-serving way, and seeking to project himself as a second pater.
He said at the rally: “God doesn’t destroy; God builds. If you do something wrong to your father and you are outside in the dark, he will call you inside the house. Don’t remain outside, come back to the others because you are a family member. If you stay outside you will die of hunger and be a destitute.”
Politics does not operate in such a godly manner; the skulduggery is rather too much.
Tsvangirai knows it.
When he invokes God and seeks to play the earthly father, he is being dishonest: in this case, he himself looks set to die of hunger and be a destitute.
He has to avoid it at all costs.
Still there is further evidence of desperation in Tsvangirai.
Money has become such a problem.
The donors have become sparse, scheming.
He now calls on ordinary people of Zimbabwe to finance the party, and his own livelihood.
That used to be the preserve of donors, who even financed his personal life.
How times change.
Two weeks ago he said: “Every member of the MDC must now contribute something for the struggle starting from March. We don’t want programmes to stop because we don’t have cash.”
And at the weekend he said: “It is high time that Zimbabweans underwrite their own struggle. You can’t continue to say to donors, ‘thank you’ all the time. If you are proud people you must be able to underwrite your struggle.”
Are these not the same donors and “rich friends” that he was once so proud of, that would bring in billions of dollars to resuscitate the economy and help the same poor people that Tsvangirai now asks to fund him?
And look who is now envying church pastors and competing for alms!
It is a desperate situation and while such times bring the best in some, they bring the worst in dear Morgan.
The latest turn of events brings to the fore the vacillating nature of Tsvangirai.
For those that care to remember, Tsvangirai, until recently, was angling for “national dialogue” which would pave way for another unity government.
During his “state of the nation” address on January 24, he said he had “sincere belief that the political dialogue will assist in developing national consensus on how to move the country forward,” beginning with a “meeting of stakeholders from different backgrounds”.
Or is the new coalition with Ncube, Madhuku and Sikhala what he had in mind?
For those watching him and events in the country with interest, they will realise that Tsvangirai, if on January 24, sought to project himself as changing the game and ready to alter the course of politics in the country, especially by forcing Zanu-PF to the negotiating table, it was just hot air.
That is why January 24 has quickly faded away from people’s minds.
In place of a national dialogue that would see him back to the apex of political play, Tsvangirai now realistically has to dally in the league of minnows like Job Sikhala, who for all is known, does not command any constituency beyond his circle of friends.
And hear how Sikhala shot back at Tsvangirai’s offer: “Tsvangirai knows my phone number. If he is serious, he should not grandstand at rallies; call me so that we can try to find common ground.”
Sikhala makes it clear he knows where Tsvangirai belongs.
He can afford to chide him for grandstanding at rallies, while making it clear that Tsvangirai has to climb down from his not so high horse and approach him.
And Sikhala will play hard to get, as they “try to find common ground”, too!
| Staring irrelevance...Morgan Tsvangirai |
Desperation; it’s like one can see the word written on the wall. It is a tough time for Morgan Tsvangirai, the leader of the opposition MDC-T. Having lost successive elections in the last 15 years, the last of which was on July 31, 2013, he now stares a split in his party as internal opposition to his leadership grows.
The reasons for this growth in opposition are largely because of his electoral failures and the manifestation of a repressive and undemocratic streak in his character.
Over the weekend, Tsvangirai made a curious call that betrayed his desperation as the captain of a sinking ship.
He called on ex-members who left the party and have gone on to form their political parties to come back to his “tent”.
He called on Job Sikhala, a one time legislator on an MDC ticket, who went to join a splinter party and later formed his own MDC-99, to come back into the fold.
He appealed to Welshman Ncube his bête noire in the acrimonious 2005 split; Professor Lovemore Madhuku, erstwhile comrade in the elusive “people-driven constitution”
(in Madhuku’s terms, of course) and now leader of a political party morphed from the National Constitutional Assembly.
The desperation is palpable.
It can be dissected in at least three ways: one, this is a call coming from a man defeated and hopeless.
Such a call could have sufficed — when made in good faith — before July 31.
Tsvangirai would not make such a call, or appeal with an acceptable degree of honesty, when he thought he was going to win the election.
It is now very telling that he appeals to his opponents, with nothing but his ego and fame as bargaining chips.
The second way in which Tsvangirai betrays desperation lies in the substance of the men he is calling on to join him.
They are all electoral losers and Lovemore Madhuku is even failing to set up the political party that he controversially conceived from the NCA.
The project already has been hit by desertions of (perceived) key personages like Takura Zhangazha and Blessing Vava.
Ncube may have been at the helm of an organisationally better MDC but he too proved to be an absolute failure ideologically.
And besides, Ncube has time and again refused, at least publicly, to go back to Tsvangirai owing to personal and ethical differences with the latter.
So, why would Tsvangirai make the appeal?
It may sound ironic that he seeks partnership with those outside when he is failing to hold on to members inside the party.
It can be noted, though, that Tsvangirai, in the unlikely event that these guys heed the call, requires some numbers around him to boost his ego, swell his party loyalty,
delay any precipitous congress or vote of (no) confidence and eventually push dissenters out.
Tsvangirai needs to buy time as he seeks to marshal his increasingly tenuous hold on the levers of power.
The third and probably most poignant indicator of Tsvangirai’s desperation is his invocation of God in his self-serving way, and seeking to project himself as a second pater.
He said at the rally: “God doesn’t destroy; God builds. If you do something wrong to your father and you are outside in the dark, he will call you inside the house. Don’t remain outside, come back to the others because you are a family member. If you stay outside you will die of hunger and be a destitute.”
Politics does not operate in such a godly manner; the skulduggery is rather too much.
Tsvangirai knows it.
When he invokes God and seeks to play the earthly father, he is being dishonest: in this case, he himself looks set to die of hunger and be a destitute.
He has to avoid it at all costs.
Still there is further evidence of desperation in Tsvangirai.
Money has become such a problem.
The donors have become sparse, scheming.
He now calls on ordinary people of Zimbabwe to finance the party, and his own livelihood.
That used to be the preserve of donors, who even financed his personal life.
How times change.
Two weeks ago he said: “Every member of the MDC must now contribute something for the struggle starting from March. We don’t want programmes to stop because we don’t have cash.”
And at the weekend he said: “It is high time that Zimbabweans underwrite their own struggle. You can’t continue to say to donors, ‘thank you’ all the time. If you are proud people you must be able to underwrite your struggle.”
Are these not the same donors and “rich friends” that he was once so proud of, that would bring in billions of dollars to resuscitate the economy and help the same poor people that Tsvangirai now asks to fund him?
And look who is now envying church pastors and competing for alms!
It is a desperate situation and while such times bring the best in some, they bring the worst in dear Morgan.
The latest turn of events brings to the fore the vacillating nature of Tsvangirai.
For those that care to remember, Tsvangirai, until recently, was angling for “national dialogue” which would pave way for another unity government.
During his “state of the nation” address on January 24, he said he had “sincere belief that the political dialogue will assist in developing national consensus on how to move the country forward,” beginning with a “meeting of stakeholders from different backgrounds”.
Or is the new coalition with Ncube, Madhuku and Sikhala what he had in mind?
For those watching him and events in the country with interest, they will realise that Tsvangirai, if on January 24, sought to project himself as changing the game and ready to alter the course of politics in the country, especially by forcing Zanu-PF to the negotiating table, it was just hot air.
That is why January 24 has quickly faded away from people’s minds.
In place of a national dialogue that would see him back to the apex of political play, Tsvangirai now realistically has to dally in the league of minnows like Job Sikhala, who for all is known, does not command any constituency beyond his circle of friends.
And hear how Sikhala shot back at Tsvangirai’s offer: “Tsvangirai knows my phone number. If he is serious, he should not grandstand at rallies; call me so that we can try to find common ground.”
Sikhala makes it clear he knows where Tsvangirai belongs.
He can afford to chide him for grandstanding at rallies, while making it clear that Tsvangirai has to climb down from his not so high horse and approach him.
And Sikhala will play hard to get, as they “try to find common ground”, too!
Friday, February 28, 2014
Uganda: the audacity of sovereignty
 |
| Audacious Museveni...he gave the West a rude finger over gay "rights" |
Tichaona Zindoga
The stakes were high; perhaps unnecessarily so.
Yet this week Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni decided to literally spit in the faces of Western powers that have been trying to foist the “new norm” of engagement based on recognition of gay “rights”.
These powers – the US, UK and the Commonwealth countries – have made their position clear: the world, and particularly Africa, should accept gay rights or risk losing aid that the West has been so generous to give.
In October 2011, British Prime Minister David Cameron told the BBC that those receiving UK aid should “adhere to proper human rights”, chief of which these days seems to be gay rights.
Two months later, US President Barack Obama reportedly instructed officials across government to “ensure that US diplomacy and foreign assistance promote and protect the human rights of lesbian, gay, and transgender persons”.
The then Secretary of State Hilary Clinton later said in a speech marking International Human Rights Day that “one of the remaining human rights challenges of our time,… gay rights, are human rights, and human rights are gay rights”.
She added: “It is violation of human rights when people are beaten or killed because of their sexual orientation, or because they do not conform to cultural norms about how men and women should look or behave.”
“It is a violation of human rights when governments declare it illegal to be gay, or allow those who harm gay people to go unpunished.”
Malawi had foreign aid support reduced because of its stance on gay rights and has had to do a lot of climbing down to keep good books with outside benefactors.
Canada threatened to cut diplomatic ties with Uganda if the anti-homosexuality Bill was passed. There were even shrill ‘holy’ cries from South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who is on record as stating that he does “not worship a homophobic God”.
Museveni is not foolish or foolhardy; the only attributes that would ordinarily attend those who oppose big powers, if they have no reason to be brave.
His defiance can be put in the same bracket as the forthrightness of President Mugabe who has been vocal on the gay issue and Zimbabwe’s right to political and economic self-determination.
Museveni could be showing the world the audacity of sovereignty.
It should be borne in mind that his country has been pursuing a hardline stance on homosexuality. His senior advisor, Joseph Nagenda, has been lashing out at both at the UK and the US for trying to foist homosexuality on Africa.
He said in 2011: “If the Americans think they can tell us what to do, they can go to hell.” Nagenda was also quoted by the Christian Science Monitor as saying: “I don’t like her tone, at all … I’m amazed she’s not looking to her own country and lecturing them first, before she comes to say these things which she knows are very sensitive issues in so many parts of the world, not least Africa.
“Homosexuality here is taboo, it’s something anathema to Africans, and I can say that this idea of Clinton’s, of Obama’s, is something that will be seen as abhorrent in every country on the continent that I can think of.” Following Monday’s signing of the Anti-Homosexuality Act, Canada, the US and Britain made familiar noises.
Canada said: “This Act is a serious setback for human rights, dignity and fundamental freedoms and deserves to be widely condemned. Regrettably, this discriminatory law will serve as an impediment in our relationship with the Ugandan government.”
The UK said it was “deeply saddened and disappointed” while to the US, this was a “tragic day for Uganda and for all who care about the cause of human rights” which “complicates a valued relationship.”
Leverage
Here comes the real reason that gives Museveni all the aces and the sovereignty that he showed in an audacious manner: Uganda is a strategic country in East Africa and after this storm, nothing serious is likely to happen to the country.
Uganda is a US pivot to East and Central Africa.
Uganda is essential to the defeat of Joseph Kony and his Lord’s Resistance Army, to which the US is committed.
Obama undertook this in his first year in office and on October 14, 2011 committed troops to help find Kony.
Already in 2008, the US Treasury had put Kony on a list of global terrorists and in 2010 Congress unanimously passed the Lord’s Resistance Army Disarmament and Northern Uganda Recovery Act of 2009.
This Ugandan pivot is key in securing US interests in South Sudan, the Central African Republic and the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
Uganda has oil, too.
Commercially viable oil deposits were discovered in 2006.
Authorities say by the end of 2013, Uganda’s proven oil reserves were estimated by the Ugandan Petroleum Exploration and Production Department to be 3,5 billion barrels, expected to yield at least US$2 billion per year for 30 years once oil production commences.
Now this is interesting. Uganda has a considerable geostrategic value.
This may not – cannot – be lost over an issue like gay rights; and proponents of the same know it.
Uganda has not been the loveliest of fellows with its involvement in wars in Central and East Africa; not least its dalliance with the US Africa Command project, but it has shown that it has muscle particularly to fight cultural imperialism which this hullabaloo around gay rights is all about.One lesson there is: African countries could leverage what advantages they have – Zimbabwe is rich and the gateway to Southern Africa – and start standing their ground.
Africa has to be audacious in light of political, economic and cultural imperialism from the West.
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