by Ian Smith
Even more serious was the physical intimidation of ZUM candidates. A number of their candidates were severely assaulted and one report claimed that the mayor of Chinhoyi was inciting the ZANU(PF) youth to ‘beat them up’. One ZUM supporter was crippled for life and produced a medical report to that effect. Four ZUM candidates simply disappeared into the background until after the election — for fear of their lives. The supervisory commission expressed their concern over the many incidents brought to their attention, but regretted their inability to take any action. A few weeks prior to election day the local national papers reported: ‘Six ZUM candidates stand down — claim they have seen the light.’
I subsequently met one and enquired about ‘the light’. He replied: ‘We were visited by the CIO and given the message that if we continued with our campaign against the government, our families (wives and children) would get the message!’
In Gweru, the capital of the midlands province, Vice-President Simon Muzenda was opposed by a strong rival, Patrick Kombayi, a local businessman and one-time mayor of Gweru. Kombayi showed commendable courage in challenging a top ZANU(PF) leader, and there was much evidence indicating that he could unseat Muzenda — a flagrant affront in the eyes of the communist system. Returning home one evening before the election, Kombayi heard a car, and then automatic weapons opening fire. Kombayi was lucky to survive but was seriously wounded. Two people were implicated and identified: a senior CIO officer and a ZANU(PF) youth leader. At the first trial the magistrate found them guilty and they were convicted. At the subsequent High Court appeal, the sentence was upheld, and finally the Supreme Court had no hesitation in confirming the seven-year jail term for attempted murder. Had they been more accurate marksmen, the case would have been for murder. Mugabe, however, immediately conferred his pardon on the two gangsters. Not for the first time, he had openly opted to condone thuggery, physical assault and even murder against his political opponents. But what a desperately sorry situation it is for our judges and all the other arms of law and order in our country, when the President, with a snap of his finger, can make a mockery of all the painstaking work produced by these dedicated servants of the state.
As 1990 progressed, in spite of ZANU(PF)’s success in virtually eliminating the opposition in the recent election, there was no let-up in the campaign to consolidate their power base further. When there was a ministry specifically charged with promoting the interests of their political party, obviously they would be foolhardy not to ensure that they earned their keep.
In June Minister Mutasa made a public statement that ‘Civil servants who do not support the principles of the ruling ZANU(PF) party should not continue to work for government.’ The following month five ZANU(PF) youth members were charged and convicted for assaulting a member of the public. At a public meeting in the area, Foreign Minister Nathan Shamuyarira denigrated the magistrate dealing with the case and stated that the party would pay the fines imposed. However, the problem was solved by Mugabe using his prerogative of mercy to pardon the youths, another absolutely dreadful exhibition on the part of a political dictator publicly ridiculing our judicial system and then taking the law into his own hands to condone — indeed promote — ZANU(PF) gangsterism. It is a sad reflection on the government’s claim that they enjoy the support of the people.
By December 1990, ZANU(PF) had still not forgiven our university — both staff and students — for having the audacity to criticise certain actions of government. This came to a head in 1988, as I mentioned, with the arrest of members of the students representative council, the closure of the university, and the cancellation of end-of-year examinations. The government now went even further: in the latter half of December, when the university was in recess and most people away on Christmas vacation, they produced a University Amendment Bill, recalled Parliament, and within two days passed the necessary legislation. The accepted procedure of allowing time for consideration and receiving representation from interested parties was, for obvious reasons, sidestepped. The whole affair was a covert, sinister operation to deceive the public and timed to coincide with the festive season in order to minimise public reaction. The effect of the amendment was to abrogate the university’s academic freedom. The appointment of the Vice-Chancellor and other key officials now became the prerogative of government, and the Vice-Chancellor, clearly under the control of the Minister of Education, was given power to remove any lecturer or student without providing justification. Moreover, the university council, the policy-making body, was now loaded with government appointees at the expense of appointees from national bodies.
Over the decades our university had built up a reputation for high academic standards and enjoyed international respect because of the freedom associated with its charter. This had attracted highly respected educationalists from many parts of the world, willing to contribute the benefits of their professionalism and expertise and, at the same time, gain experience of Africa. Already there was evidence coming in that the respect which had been earned by our university through the efforts of dedicated educationalists over many years had been damaged by this retrogressive legislation. This was the price exacted from us by a government determined to remain in power no matter what the cost to the country.
The year 1991 saw the government avoiding provocative action in view of the Commonwealth heads of government conference, due to be held in Harare in the latter part of the year. They backtracked on the Land Acquisition Bill, which would have allowed land and improvements to be expropriated at sub-economic prices for subsequent allocation to selected comrades. At the same time, however, they continued, as unobtrusively as possible, to entrench their establishment with consummate expertise. Meanwhile, the economy continued to grind down — but this, of course, was not a uniquely Zimbabwean problem; it applied to most of Africa, and had been the pattern for many decades, with the result that Africans generally are among the poorest people in the world, while their politicians are among the richest. They use the plight of the poor masses as a lever to pressurise the rest of the world to support their plea for cancellation of Third World debt. The majority of humane people wish to assist, but how does one overcome the corruption of those in control plundering their countries’ foreign exchange and lining their own pockets? And there is ample evidence to indicate that billions are involved. Would it not be fair and honest to insist, as a prelude to international financial agreements, that the politicians of the countries concerned, and their close associates, declare their bank accounts, both foreign and local. I believe the resultant revelations would be staggering — in some cases they might even solve their countries’ financial problems!
I was encouraged by a speech made in the first week of May 1991 by Mr Barber Conable, World Bank President, who acknowledged the difficulties facing Africa, but stressed: ‘With the right kinds of policies and the right kinds of leadership these problems can be overcome. But all will be to no avail unless the quality of governance in Africa improves.’ I hoped that the words would be backed up by action. This would indeed be a rare occasion in our world, riddled as it is by convenient diplomacy and appeasement.
By September 1991 inflation continued to spiral out of control and the latest estimate was that it had reached 35 per cent. Financial and economic opinion laid the blame firmly on the government’s excessive spending, claiming that this was the major contribution to fuelling inflation. Zimbabwe had just been subjected to one of those agonising orchestrated gatherings which provided Mugabe with a platform to address the people. Schoolteachers regularly complained of receiving instructions to load their pupils on to transport, which then conveyed them to the meeting. In addition, township residents who stayed at home were subjected to provocative taunts from youth-wing gangs. On this particular occasion one of those attending, a black man, interrupted Mugabe’s speech and shouted: ‘Ian Smith was better.’ The report indicated that there was strong applause from a large section in the vicinity. However, security personnel, ever present in
force, immediately arrested the heckler, and he was unceremoniously removed.
On 16 October 1991, the Commonwealth heads of government meeting opened in Harare. From all accounts it was well organised, with the usual pomp and ceremony, and the high lifestyle associated with such occasions. The principle on which the organisation was founded stated that the Commonwealth is (and I quote from the official journal of The Parliaments of the Commonwealth): ‘united by community of interest, respect for the rule of law and human rights and freedoms, and pursuit of the positive ideals of parliamentary democracy’. The majority of countries attending, however, were one-party dictatorships, or military dictatorships. Did this not mean, in all honesty, that the whole thing was a gigantic fraud? These countries use their membership of this once venerable association to bluff the world that they believe in democracy. Moreover, they use it as the foundation for their appeals for assistance to enable them ‘to continue serving the interests of their people’. In fact, the Commonwealth effectively props up the dictatorships’ corrupt regimes and assists them in their principal preoccupation of the preservation in power and wealth of themselves and their comrades.
It is important to note that this is not a recent innovation. It started in the early 1960s, and ever since it has continued to expand. One never ceases to wonder how much longer the principled members of the Commonwealth will continue to turn a blind eye to such blatant dishonesty!
However, as I commented over the 1991 speech by the World Bank President, maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The current Prime Ministers of Britain and Canada, John Major and Brian Mulroney, made it absolutely clear that henceforth it was their intention to link aid to the recipient countries’ records of human rights and democratic government. Perhaps this would materialise into more than vote-gaining diplomacy! Otherwise the public would once again rightly come to the conclusion that the Commonwealth is no more than a talking shop, used by its many less scrupulous members as a cover-up for an exclusive retreat financed by the taxpayer.
In February 1992 the land issue confronted us again. On a few occasions in 1991 there were rumblings about the aforementioned Land Acquisition Bill, but it was kept on the back-burner for certain reasons. Probably the most important of these was the need to get the Commonwealth leaders’ conference over and out of the way. The Bill was thus introduced to Parliament in the last week in February. There had been many meetings and much talking. The principle of obtaining land on which to settle peasant farmers was readily accepted; the controversy centred on the manner of expropriation and the subsequent compensation. Under the Bill the minister had power to designate land, not only agricultural, but also commercial and urban. The land could be taken over immediately, or the final decision delayed for up to ten years. During this period the owner could utilise the land, but construct no more improvements. This meant he would no longer be able to use it as security in order to obtain credit facilities. If, after ten years, the land was taken over and the owner was dissatisfied with the price offered, no longer would he have an appeal to our courts of law, as had been the procedure in the past and is accepted in all civilised countries, but arbitration would be handled by a government-appointed body. As we knew only too well from past experience, there would be collusion and corruption involved at this point. Once a decision on the compensation was given — and there was no knowing as to how long this would be delayed — the procedure for payments was vague and could be extended over a period of five years. I noted in my diary: ‘In plain language, Government takes unto itself the right to arbitrarily expropriate any land and property, and then set its own price and method of compensation. There is no appeal.’
The government appeared oblivious to the numerous warnings and appeals from investors, both external and internal, of the resultant devastating effect on the national economy. They were concerned only with the short term, the regaining of voter confidence. The long-term future of the country could take care of itself.
By December 1992, I concluded that the year would be remembered by Zimbabweans, unhappily, for shortages of essential requirements and massive inflation. We had been through a drought with its associated problems. The drought, however, had in many ways assisted the government by enabling them to use it as an excuse for their own shortcomings. Over the last five to six years, government-controlled prices for many commodities such as maize (the staple food of the bulk of our people), meats, wheat, groundnuts and dairy products had been suppressed in order to ensure cheap food. Farmers had enough common-sense to understand that growing crops that were sub-economic was a road to certain insolvency. In 1991 the acreage planted to maize was less than 50 per cent of 1980’s and it was much the same with other crops. For this reason — not because of the drought — we were faced with a massive import of maize. In January 1992 the Commercial Farmers’ Union foresaw the problem and urged the government to import maize from South Africa, where stocks were available at reasonable prices. But those at the top knew better and boasted that there would be no shortage. We live with the perennial problem that ZANU(PF) always knows better than everyone else, including the professionals and those with many decades of experience.
Suddenly, in April 1992, the government was confronted with the facts: a shortage of meal and long queues. But by then, external stocks had been depleted and the price of imports had escalated. In the local townships, families were going to bed hungry, and on the black market the price of mealie-meal had more than doubled. An aggravating factor was the continuing devaluation of the Zimbabwe dollar and the associated inflation. In fact, in 1992 the escalation in the cost of living had been alarming and the resultant hardships on the lower-income groups had been a source of great concern. Furthermore, as always happens in such circumstances, there had been an unwelcome increase in crime. I wrote in my diary: ‘A hungry man is a dangerous man. In 1990 inflation reached 16 per cent, in 1991 it was 29 per cent, and the prediction is that it will be around 40 per cent for 1992.’ The interest rate on loan money exceeded 40 per cent in the latter part of 1992. For a number of years now, the government had acknowledged the problems facing the country, and year after year they repeated, parrot-fashion, their solutions. ‘The massive national debt was to be reduced, deficit financing would be curbed and kept at an acceptable level, the size of the civil service and number of ministries (proportional to population, the largest in the world) would be cut back, the rampant corruption endemic throughout the country would be dealt with.’ However, the Ministry of Defence vote in 1992’s budget was increased by $115 million to a total of $1.3 billion — for a country at peace with the world around it, with no internal security problems. Minister of Finance Dr Bernard Chidzero stated in Parliament: ‘We have increased the Ministry of Defence’s salary bill to keep the boys content so that they do not turn against us.’ This came from the man who was supposed to be the main architect in formulating the future economic policy for our country, encouraging investment in order to create jobs for the millions of unemployed, and promoting exports which would earn the foreign exchange to reduce our national debt and finance our essential imports.
The President of the Confederation of Zimbabwe Industries, in his end-of-year analysis, called for: ‘the abolition of provincial governors and resident ministers and a 50 per cent reduction in cabinet ministers in order to check government’s bloated recurrent expenditure.’ He added: ‘The government’s fiscal policy for the year has been a total disaster with taxes among the highest in the world — personal tax at 55 per cent and corporate tax at 42.5 per cent.’ What an asset it is when people continue to retain their sense of humour. A correspondent from Bulawayo commented: ‘It is rumoured that Ian Smith has sent a telegram to Harold Wilson — “Congratulations, sanctions imposed in 1965 are at last beginning to take effect!”.’
Throughout the whole of 1993, Mugabe was confronted with the problem of trying to reconcile two opposing forces. On the one hand there was the need to placate voters disenchanted by const
ant shortages and the alarming increase in the costs of their basic requirements. The answer, in the eyes of ZANU(PF), was to produce more land on which to settle comrades. On the other hand, there were convincing opinions, both internal and external, warning against using land — that precious and limited commodity — as a tool to gain short-term political support at the expense of the long-term future of the country. To date, the government’s land settlement policy had been a total disaster. Even their own appointed agricultural extension officers held up their hands in horror and cried for a halt. People who wished to have the privilege of owning a piece of land, but had no farming experience or training, could within one year destroy natural resources which would take a hundred years or more to replenish. Moreover, it was nonsensical to take land away from efficient and productive farmers who were not only providing food for the nation, but a surplus for export that earned much-needed foreign currency, and to hand it over to those who were incapable of even supporting themselves. This was communism at its absolute worst: deliberately sabotaging the future of your country and your people in order to ensure your retention of power.
Moreover, government had available in excess of two million acres of farmland but, because of the above problem, they were in a quandary, not knowing what to do. They could obtain another million acres tomorrow through willing-seller, willing-buyer deals, but this was the last thing to be drawn to the attention of the people. It would demolish their vote-winning strategy of portraying the white man as a colonial racist obstinately clinging on to his land while ZANU(PF) threatened to expropriate it in order to distribute it to the poor deprived people!