In 2002, the former Commander of the ZDF, General Vitalis Zvinavashe, declared, “Let it be known that the highest office in the land is a straight jacket whose occupant is expected to observe the objectives of the liberation struggle. We will, therefore, not accept, let alone support or salute anyone with a different agenda that threatens (the) very existence of our sovereignty, our country and our people.”
Not to be outdone, his successor, General Constantine Chiwenga, shocked the world in 2008 by saying, “elections are coming and the army will not support or salute sell-outs and agents of the West before, during and after the presidential elections…We will not support anyone other than President Mugabe, who has sacrificed a lot for this country.”
Senior members of various state security services have variously and publicly stated their support for Mugabe and Zanu (PF) and their undisguised hatred for Morgan Tsvangirai, the MDC and all those opposed to Zanu’s rule. The rhetoric has continued even in the post-GPA period.
Court-martialled
Ominously, no one has been court-martialled for doing and saying exactly what state security operatives should not do or say in a constitutional democracy. No regional or continental leaders have condemned the securocrats’ conduct either – even though it is an affront to the principles and values of both the Southern African Development Community and the African Union.
Although gaps exist in the law, the unorthodox conduct of the security sector has not been due to lack of relevant legislation. The much-maligned and 19-times amended Lancaster House Constitution, the Defence Act and the National Defence Policy, among others, provide the appropriate legal and policy framework for the governance and management of the ZDF.
For example, the National Defence Policy correctly identifies cardinal principles of democratic control of the armed forces, including the defence force’s subordination to civilian authority; civilian responsibility for the formulation of defence policy with the technical assistance of the military; civilian responsibility for the political dimensions of defence policy; military execution of defence policy; non-interference of government and politicians with the operational chain of command; and, non-interference of the government and politicians in the application of the code of military discipline.
Code of conduct
The same can be said about the police and prison services – both of which are covered by reasonably far-reaching legal and policy frameworks. If fully and faithfully implemented, the laws could make these services more human-security oriented. In addition, the Zimbabwe Republic Police is an active member of the Southern African Regional Police Chiefs Cooperation Organisation, whose code of conduct commits member police organisations to respect for human rights and the rule of law, service excellence and integrity, the fair and equal treatment of people, and the treatment of victims of crime with ‘compassion and respect’.
The code of conduct prohibits the police from inflicting, instigating or tolerating torture or other cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment. Yet, on numerous occasions, the ZRP in general and, what is known as, the law and order section in particular have been accused of – and found to be responsible for – violations of Zimbabwe’s laws and the SARPCCO code of conduct.
However, a major legal deficiency does exist in relation to the civilian intelligence services. The Department of State for National Security, which is commonly known as the Central Intelligence Organisation, is Zimbabwe’s main civilian intelligence agency.
It was inherited en bloc from the Rhodesian government and resides in the Office of the President under the political control of a Minister of State. Notwithstanding the fact that ‘democratic control of intelligence services should begin with the enactment of a clear and explicit legal framework’, the CIO is probably the only state security agency in Zimbabwe that is not established under the Constitution or any law.
The only significant mention of the Department of State for National Security can be found in the National Security Act, 2009 – but only in relation to the inclusion of the department in the definition of ‘security services’, the Director General’s membership on the National Security Council and, for obvious reasons, the administration of the Interception of Communication Act.
Intercept emails
Together with the chief of Defence Intelligence, the Commissioner General of the ZRP and the Commissioner General of the Zimbabwe Revenue Authority, the CIO Director General is authorized to access private post, eavesdrop on telephone conversations and intercept faxes and emails in the course of his work. Despite these sweeping powers, in the absence of a ‘clear and explicit legislative framework’ the CIO is – from a financial, legal and policy compliance perspective – beyond the reach of judicial, parliamentary and public scrutiny.
Typically, the mandate of an intelligence service, such as the CIO, as a first line of defence would be limited to intelligence gathering. “In the hands of responsible democratic leaders, intelligence is the major contributor to the state’s absolute obligation to its people to make sure that threats to security are detected in time for them to be counteracted, and for harm, death and destruction to be prevented”.
Secret police
Unfortunately, the CIO is largely seen, and has acted, as the incumbent president’s secret police and been a major perpetrator of gross human rights violations, including abductions and the use of torture to extract information from political opponents, human rights defenders and ordinary citizens. Clearly, the CIO has gone beyond the ‘state’s absolute obligation to its people’ and is engaged in party political work and involved in violence against the very people it is supposed to be protecting from harm.
The pervasive politico-military and economic complex, which was informal in the 1980s and 1990s, was formalised in the 2000s through the Joint Operations Command. This is a throw-back from Ian Smith’s Rhodesia. As its name suggests, the JOC was designed to deal with operational military and security matters and not policy matters. The JOC initially operated under the “tacit management of Zanu (PF). But by the 2005 elections it had become an alternative to the state, and was, in effect, a parallel government.” (Chitiyo, 2009:8).
Control of Treasury
It was ably and faithfully supported by a Central Bank, which, until the establishment of the inclusive government put an end to Zanu (PF)’s control of the Treasury, which had previously made funds available for party political purposes.
In addition to providing the required resources for extra-legal JOC operations, the Central Bank happily exceeded its monetary policy mandate and facilitated an extensive patronage and vote-buying strategy through the acquisition of agricultural equipment for new land owners, vehicles for Members of Parliament and even laptop computers and televisions for judges.
The entry of the JOC into politics was not by accident. It coincided with the formation of the MDC in 1999 and the new party’s electoral successes in 2000 and 2002, which indicated that Zanu (PF) now faced a viable opponent for the first time since the demise of PF ZAPU in 1987, and even a government-in-waiting.
Between 2005 and 2008, as Zanu (PF)’s political structures disappeared in the face of the MDC’s growing popularity, state and non-state security actors – including the so-called war veterans and youth militia – unleashed a violent pro-Zanu (PF) and anti-MDC campaign. Without the active support of the JOC and a not-so-impartial election management body – under the leadership of a retired military officer, who has since been appointed Judge President – Zanu (PF) would have done even worse than it officially did in the March 2008 elections.
Takawira Musavengana is the Human Rights and Democracy Building Manager at the Open Society Initiative for Southern Africa in South Africa. His forthcoming publication is entitled: The Case for a SADC Parliament: Old Wine in New Bottles or an Ideal Whose Time Has Come?
Post published in: Politics