Yesterday, once again, President Emmerson Mnangagwa warned Zimbabweans to be wary of what he has repeatedly termed “the country’s detractors.”
This message was delivered during his address to the ruling ZANU-PF party’s supreme decision-making body, the Politburo.
This theme has become so frequent in the president’s speeches that it now borders on obsession, eerily mirroring the same rhetoric that former President Robert Mugabe employed with maddening regularity.
It is as if Zimbabwe’s leadership is trapped in a time loop, fixated on a phantom menace that has never been clearly defined or substantiated.
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Despite more than two decades of this repetitive narrative, no Zimbabwean leader has ever clearly explained what exactly constitutes a “detractor.”
What is this so-called threat that warrants repeated national warnings?
A detractor is someone who challenges or criticizes a person, institution, or system—often sharply—not out of malice, but from a place of concern, a demand for accountability, or a commitment to truth.
Far from being enemies, true detractors often serve as mirrors—reflecting the uncomfortable realities that those in power would rather ignore.
In any functioning democracy, such individuals are not threats but essential watchdogs who help keep leaders in check.
If we accept this clear and reasonable understanding of what a detractor is, then what exactly does President Mnangagwa find so inherently dangerous or offensive about criticism?
Even if such criticism is deemed unfair, why should it be viewed as a national security threat?
The Zimbabwean government went as far as enacting the highly controversial Criminal Law (Codification and Reform) Amendment Act, 2023—popularly known as the “Patriotic Act.”
This legislation purports to protect Zimbabwe’s sovereignty and national interest by criminalizing those who are believed to “willfully injure the sovereignty and national interest” of the country.
Yet, since its passage, not a single person has been charged under this law.
This raises serious questions about its true purpose.
Was it ever meant to serve justice, or was it simply intended to instill fear and silence dissent?
Another common excuse President Mnangagwa often invokes when attacking so-called “detractors” is the claim that they are creating “division and disunity” in the country.
Yet, this is nothing more than a tired and dishonest tactic to deflect attention from the regime’s own failures and avoid accountability.
What is wrongly packaged as “division” is in fact the healthy awakening of a people who have long endured injustice, misgovernance, and economic hardship—and who are finally finding the courage to demand better.
When citizens rise up to challenge corruption, question incompetence, and call for the resignation of leaders who have failed them, that is not sowing division; it is exercising democratic rights.
In fact, true unity is only possible when it is built on justice, transparency, and inclusion—not on fear, silence, and unquestioning obedience.
It is deeply disingenuous and fundamentally undemocratic for any leader to define national unity as a state where no one dares question authority.
Unity should never mean the absence of criticism or the suppression of dissent.
That is not unity—it is tyranny.
The real threat to national security and the true danger to Zimbabwe’s interests do not stem from ordinary citizens exercising their democratic right to speak out—but from a government that actively suppresses those rights.
When legitimate dissent is carelessly labelled as the work of “enemies of the state,” and when the democratic space is deliberately closed off to silence alternative voices, it is not the people who become the problem—it is those in power.
National security is not endangered by criticism or protest; it is endangered when citizens are denied their inalienable rights to free expression, a decent livelihood, and equitable access to national resources.
In that light, it becomes clear: the real “enemies of the state and the people” are not the so-called detractors, but those who abuse state power to escape accountability and crush opposition.
A truly united nation is one where divergent views coexist, where leaders are accountable to the people, and where disagreements are seen as a necessary part of building a more just and inclusive society.
If anything, the real threat to unity is not criticism from citizens, but a government that refuses to listen, refuses to reform, and refuses to take responsibility for its actions.
This trend of demonizing criticism is not just disingenuous—it is dangerous.
In any functioning democracy, criticism is not just a right; it is an essential pillar.
A democratic society is built on the freedom of expression, which includes the right of citizens to criticize their leaders and hold them accountable.
Without criticism, there is no mechanism for course correction, no opportunity for reflection, and no incentive for those in power to act in the public interest.
The absence of critical voices results in unchecked power and a ruling elite that is detached from the realities faced by ordinary citizens.
In fact, far from being a threat to national development, criticism is its bedrock.
It is through scrutiny that nations evolve, policies are refined, and public officials are held to higher standards.
Consider countries such as the United States, where the media and civil society are relentless in questioning and critiquing the actions of those in power.
Presidents are not exempt from public scrutiny—even when that scrutiny is perceived as disrespectful or unfair.
This transparency fosters accountability and better governance.
In South Africa, the vibrant tradition of public critique has led to the resignation of presidents, such as Jacob Zuma, and the dismissal of corrupt officials.
Civil society, journalists, and opposition voices have been instrumental in shaping the country’s democratic landscape.
Even in the United Kingdom, Prime Minister’s Questions is a weekly session where the head of government must respond to challenging inquiries from both the opposition and their own party—live and in full public view.
These examples underscore that a nation does not weaken under criticism—it grows stronger, more inclusive, and more responsive to the needs of its people.
So why, then, does President Mnangagwa persist in portraying “detractors” as enemies of the state?
If anything, Zimbabwe needs more detractors—more citizens bold enough to point out what is not working.
We need people who ask tough questions about the deplorable state of our public hospitals.
We need voices that refuse to be silenced in the face of grinding poverty and unemployment, which have rendered over 80 percent of the population destitute and more than 90 percent jobless.
We need those who speak out against the looting of over US$3 billion annually—resources that could transform our economy, upgrade our infrastructure, and provide better living standards for our people.
And yet, such voices are vilified.
When we expose these injustices, we are branded “detractors.”
When we highlight the decay in our public services, we are accused of undermining national interests.
When we demand transparency and accountability in government, we are painted as enemies of the state.
This reveals the sad reality: Zimbabwe’s ruling elite does not welcome criticism because it threatens to expose their failings.
Leaders who are secure in their mandate and confident in their performance do not fear scrutiny—they embrace it as a necessary part of democratic governance.
One is left wondering whether President Mnangagwa has ever recognized any criticism as constructive and welcome.
Has there ever been a time when the government has genuinely said, “Thank you for pointing that out, we will work on it”?
Or is all criticism, by default, treated as subversive and hostile?
This reflexive demonization of critique signals a leadership that is unwilling to confront its own shortcomings.
It speaks of a government that is more interested in preserving power than in serving the people.
Surely, if the president truly cared for Zimbabwe and its citizens, he would welcome these so-called “detractors” into his advisory circle.
These are the people who can keep him in touch with the lived realities of the average Zimbabwean.
Instead of shunning them, he should seek their counsel.
After all, what use is a leader who is surrounded only by praise-singers and sycophants, who constantly tell him what he wants to hear, rather than what he needs to hear?
In a genuine democracy, the role of the president is not to silence criticism but to listen to it, to learn from it, and to respond to it with humility and vision.
Leaders who cannot tolerate criticism exhibit autocratic tendencies.
They rule through fear, propaganda, and repression—not through democratic consensus.
And more often than not, they have failed and simply do not want that failure exposed.
The truth is simple: a president who can’t stand and tolerate critiques has no place in a genuine democracy.
- Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to WhatsApp or Call: +263715667700 | +263782283975, or email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com, or visit website: https://mbofanatendairuben.news.blog/