What does 2013 hold for us?

There are a few hard facts, some unpleasant and some hopeful, that we need to keep in mind in this year when people are expecting decisive action for change.

First, talk of democratising our institutions won’t mean much if we forget that Zanu (PF), thanks to their years of looting and the bonus of Chiadzwa diamonds, is richer than the government. (Do we need to be reminded that “the government” is an institution separate from any political party that might control it temporarily?)

Their planning is based on the control they hold by having bought the army, the police and the CIO. With that sort of power, they could allow a perfectly free and fair election, acceptable to the whole world, without losing power because an elected government can’t, in this case, do much without money. We’ve seen that in the past five years.

But, before we lose heart, we could ask ourselves whether the cops and soldiers we meet daily on the street look like dedicated servants of a kleptocratic regime. Kleptocracy, if anyone needs to be reminded, is Greek for “rule by thieves”; do their lower ranks or the part-time irregular troops who hang around Mbare Musika and city street corners waiting for someone to offer them employment look as if they will be as keen to launch another round of violence against their neighbours for the benefit of the big thieves and very little real reward for themselves? Our kleptocrats didn’t get rich by being generous, even to their own minions. Ask the “war vets” who staged the land invasions; ask the youth militias who campaigned in 2002, 2005 and 2008.

They have more money now, but I don’t expect them to splash it around recklessly. I would advise any voter who feels tempted by their bribes to remember the classic example of Zanu (PF) tightfistedness, Jonathan Moyo’s campaign for election in Tsholotsho. He went around distributing cheques to pay for inputs from the GMB as a reward for voting for him. After the election, the voters discovered why their cheques had been post-dated, i.e. they were dated a few days after the election, so they couldn’t be used before that date. Jono was up earlier than they were on the morning of the count and cancelled all the cheques as soon as he heard the result.

That little story doesn’t only illustrate Zanu (PF)’s meanness. Even voters who put their X in the right box, just as Jono had told them, found that their cheques were useless after the results were announced. That disproves one of Zanu’s scare stories, used on the supposedly unsophisticated voters of their heartland: whatever they say, they won’t know how you voted unless you tell them yourself. If you voted for the mad professor and wanted your reward, you would have needed to present irrefutable evidence of how you voted because he couldn’t get it anywhere else. Of course, he’d probably have had some other excuse for not paying you, but that’s another story. The moral of this story is: THERE ARE NO CAMERAS THAT CAN TELL HOW YOU VOTED.

Of course, buying votes may be combined this time with a campaign to persuade you that everyone else has lost hope in any political alternative because the GNU couldn’t make any of the changes we had all be crying for since the NCA was formed. “They didn’t change anything; they’re all on the same gravy train” will be their chorus. We know the answer: the train got nowhere because the people who wanted to stop it were still in the driver’s cab, engaging the brakes as soon as the driver turned his back, and their allies were blocking the track ahead of it. We know nothing can be done till that changes and that is why we will be voting – but we insist on proof that our votes will be counted fairly and transparently, and that everyone – including Mudede and Chiwenga – obey the government we elect.

Post published in: Opinions & Analysis

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