Storming Rotten Row
Those of us who are avid students of history are familiar with the historical significance of July 14, a famous day which symbolises one of the greatest political processes in modern world history: the French Revolution. July 14, or le quatorze juillet, as it is known in the native tongue of the revolution’s juridiction, is the modern day marker of a seminal process that changed the course of world history at the tail end of the late 18th century. It is the anniversary of a dramatic moment in the summer of 1789, when citizens of Paris stormed the Bastille, a prison-fortress which was infamous for holding political prisoners during the era of absolute rule under the Bourbon monarchy in France. The Bastille was a symbol of repression under the Bourbon monarchy.
Today, it is widely known around the world as Bastille Day, and marks France’s National Holiday. As a life-long student of history, it was a profound moment when I visited the site of the Bastille on my first trip to Paris more than a decade ago. It was more than an encounter with history. Together with my fellow students back at Assisi High, the Roman Catholic establishment enveloped in the bushes of Nharira which prepared me for the rigours of life, we had only been to these sites of European history in the depths of our imagination. How we managed to make sense of what had transpired in these places, so distant both in time and space, remains a great wonder. But we did. To visit and see them is a bonus.
On 13 July, just hours before the French marked le quatorze juillet, that fundamental moment of history, something phenomenal was happening thousands of miles away in Harare, Zimbabwe’s capital. It was not quite the storming of the Bastille, no. But the mass convergence of people at Rotten Row Magistrates Court in Harare was a moment to behold.
There, hundreds of people from multiple walks of life swarmed and formed a human sea unseen in recent years. They knelt down in prayer. They sang – songs of struggle as well as songs of comfort; memorised hymns and songs to petition the Heavens and some via the agency of the ancestors, all to beseech them to intervene on the positive side of justice. They chanted slogans. They held hands – a mark of togetherness and solidarity, a symbol of unity and strength. Some shed tears – initially of pain and later, of unimpeded joy. It was an incredible moment, all in the space of a day.
Even those of us who were thousands of miles away, eyes locked on smartphones, laptops and all manner of gadgets, following events at Rotten Row as those present updated us by the minute on social media, we all felt like we were there too, present at the courts. Figures differ, some say there were 50 others say 100, but certainly the truth lies somewhere in-between – this was the number of lawyers who offered themselves to represent a man in distress, a man whose reputation had ballooned to proportions unimaginable in the space of a few weeks, thanks to his remarkable show of courage. Such volunteerism in a profession, my profession I must add, which is often the subject of countless unkind jokes, is uncommon. But this was not an ordinary moment and unsurprisingly, it had attracted an extraordinary response, pursuit of the dollar giving way to the pursuit of justice.
It was not quite a Bastille moment, no, but by our standards, it was phenomenal. The people had stormed Rotten Row. But on account of the hand of chance, there was a French flavour to the event, courtesy of the presence of France’s representative to Zimbabwe, Mr Laurent Delahousse, who joined the gathering as a mark of solidarity with the persecuted man.
The man who had brought this sea of people together was Evan Mawarire, a pastor who was barely known outside his social and religious circles before April this year. That was until he made a dramatic entrance into Zimbabwe’s hitherto lethargic and confused civil and political space when in April he authored an impassioned appeal for good governance and reform in Zimbabwe. Then on 12 July 2016, the Zimbabwean police arrested him after they had summoned him to appear at their offices. They handcuffed him, treating him like a common criminal whom they feared could flee at any moment, even though he had presented himself voluntarily upon their call.
The gathering at Rotten Row was a response to this apparent injustice. Zimbabweans, and indeed the civilised world, was outraged by the inhumane treatment of a man who had done nothing more than ask legitimate questions about the parlous state of the country under a regime that has clearly run out of clues. It was probably the greatest show of public-spiritedness and solidarity ever seen in years on Zimbabwean soil. It was obvious the situation could turn ugly if Lady Justice had been stifled. In the end common sense prevailed and the Court released him – the state had made school-boy errors in handling the case. The devout thought the Heavens had responded to the petitions and intervened. But so tense was the situation that the authorities must have weighed the costs and benefits of keeping the pastor locked up and realised that the costs would be too heavy to carry.
And so ended a dramatic day in Harare, with the pastor going home after spending a night in the dingy and over-crowded cells of Harare Central Police station where his company would have included petty criminals, caught up in the rat race to escape the claws of poverty authored by the regime which he was criticising.
Rise of #ThisFlag citizens’ movement
One of the most remarkable aspects of the citizens’ movement which has Pastor Mawarire as its figurehead is the meteoric rise and popularity it attracted in the space of a few weeks. It began with a simple video just after Independence Day on April 18, in which he made an impassioned plea to citizens to defend the national flag. He lamented how the national flag had been betrayed by the country’s inept leadership. He posted it on social media and having captured the attention of the people, it soon went viral. Those very ordinary circumstances gave birth to the citizens’ movement which is now popularly referred to by the hashtag #ThisFlag.
The Government and state media initially dismissed it as a “social media fad”, a bad gust of wind which would soon pass. They were wrong. They had underestimated the weight of the message and the seriousness with which Zimbabweans attached to it and the symbolism of the national flag. Later, as it gained traction, it began to annoy them. They were unhappy that citizens had appropriated the national flag for purposes of articulating their pain, their concerns and their demands. ZANU PF has always claimed title to national symbols and institutions, to privatise them and exclude others as if they alone hold exclusive ownership of them. They have made the National Heroes Acre their own private burial site – one reserved for members of the burial society. #ThisFlag citizens’ movement had broken into ZANU PF’s safe and run away with the national flag. They were not amused and already murmurs are that they are mulling a ban on using the flag, which of course would be absurd and irrational. But such things have never stood in their way. Students of resistance studies may one day make this appropriation of the national flag and the battle over it a special case study.
Another feature of #ThisFlag citizens’ movement is that like a snow-ball, it rolled rapidly and gathered enormous size across the world. Zimbabwean students at campuses in South Africa and other countries converged in solidarity, all draped in the national colours. Zimbabweans in the US, UK, Canada, Australia and other countries began to converge at Zimbabwean embassies to demonstrate and express themselves around #ThisFlag movement. It became a worldwide phenomenon and attracted the attention of the world’s biggest media houses – CNN, Al Jazeera, Sky News, the BBC, RFI and big South African TV and radio stations. Flag vendors must have said silent prayers of gratitude, their small businesses suddenly boosted by the avalanche of national passion.
Far from derailing the momentum of the citizens’ movement, the arrest of Pastor Mawarire actually boosted it. Like other dictatorships, the ZANU PF government has a habit of creating heroes out of ordinary people. Once they arrested him, they turned Pastor Mawarire into a man persecuted for his political beliefs – both a victim and a hero of the people. Far from silencing him, they had made his voice louder and more far-reaching.
But why did #ThisFlag movement gain momentum and popularity so rapidly not just in Zimbabwe but across the world? There reasons are many. However, my thesis is that everything converges around what I call the “cost of electoral theft”, which I argue had risen to intolerable levels by the time Pastor Mawarire emerged in April this year, that it became easier to draw people to the cause. The time for the cost of electoral theft shall come later, but first I must dispose of the other factors which contributed to the rapid rise in the citizens’ movement.
Message resonance
One reason is that Pastor Mawarire’s powerful message resonated with and appealed to many ordinary Zimbabweans – both at home and in the Diaspora. He raised issues that were of concern to most people – corruption, unemployment, deterioration in public services delivery and general economic decay and hopelessness in the country. Yet it is also true that none of these things were new and the pastor was not the first person to be raising them. Many people in the opposition had long been raising these issues before. Itai Dzamara, the political activist who was abducted before disappearing back in March 2015, had been a lone voice raising these issues. Yet most people had gone about their business as if things were normal. What then explains the sudden burst of public expression that has been witnessed in recent months?
Social media
Social media has been an important part of this process. It is no coincidence that the video that started it all was posted on social media. It received a massive response, particularly in the Diaspora but soon spread on WhatsApp to the audience in Zimbabwe and gained much traction on home ground. Although Zimbabweans use Twitter and Facebook, by far the majority rely on WhatsApp, which is cheaper and more accessible. Utilisation of those platforms helped to drive the momentum. Soon people began to post their own videos, complementing what the pastor had started. It is not surprising that the government began to fret over social media, threatening to start regulating it, which most people read as threats to restrict it usage. Indeed, on the day of the first big mass stay-away in years, on 6th July, telecommunications companies confirmed that the WhatsApp service was down and most people read that as due to government interference. It was notable that the mobile phone companies did not cite technical reasons as the reason for the shut-down. Government rejected the suggestion that there was any political interference but few believe that to be true. Nevertheless, there was a flurry of notices and warnings from government and the telecommunications regulator, warning people of so-called social media abuse. This signified the seriousness with which the state was taking social media, after the dismissiveness of the initial days.
An organic movement without a command structure
Some critics have questioned the citizens’ movement for its lack of organised structures and platforms. Yet part of its early successes was precisely due to its scattered nature and lack of a command structure. It was an organic, free for all movement without a commanding figure directing how people should behave or what they should say. The pastor posted his videos, and others did too, voicing their own concerns. No-one was telling anyone what to do or how to do it. This spontaneity helped to drive momentum into the movement. The same could be seen on Facebook and Twitter posts – people said what they wanted, without restraint or protocol. People soon identified people whom they regarded as ‘leaders’ to tag and share their thoughts more widely. The messages were different but they formed a big chorus directed at government and the ruling party.
The dispersed and liberal character of the movement was very different from the traditional model of the political party or civil society organisations. There were no command and control structures to drive people in one direction. There were no standard procedures and protocols to follow. In organised political parties, people tend to be limited by their party political structures. Political parties give people blinkers: they must move in one direction and for all the claims of democracy, the culture is very much commandist – people are expected to follow the leader. People are not creative and they are not allowed to be creative. If they step out of line, or do something different, they are regarded as rebels or at worst, as sell-outs, a term of exclusion.
The citizens’ movement does not suffer those demarcations because it is not an organised political party. It is inclusive and does not command people to act on pain of sanctions should they not comply. Rather, it is citizens who control and police each other. Therefore, is one advocates force and violence, other citizens quickly rein them in and promote the dominant message of peace and non-violence. But of course, as critics have rightly pointed out, the lack of organised structures is unsustainable in the long run. At some point, the movement needs an organised structure to ensure long-term viability.
Non-partisanship
Another factor which made the citizens’ movement more appealing was its non-partisan character. It was not led by a political party or one of the existing and known political leaders. Seasoned politicians have the benefit of experience, but they are also hamstrung by their familiarity with the terrain. They are less daring and people are used to hearing them. They have said the same things time and again and there is nothing new that they are offering. They don’t excite people as much as they did when they first got onto the scene. Pastor Mawarire was totally unknown outside his congregation and social circle. When he emerged, he was a fresh face on the scene, and even though he was talking about things which others had spoken before, people were keen to listen to a new voice of courage. It helped that it was not politically partisan. It was not associated with any of the existing parties and it was not advocating the views and or advancing the political capital of a political party. This helped to draw a crowd that is not normally keen on politics. It also drew people from different sides of the political divide. He was speaking the common language of suffering, understood by everyone regardless of their political affiliation.
Young people
Sixteen years after the turn of the century, politics in different countries is taking a big interest in the so-called millennials. They will be critical in Zimbabwe’s 2018 elections as those born in 2000 turn 18 and become eligible to vote. One thing that opposition political parties and organised civil society have not been able to do very well is to tap sufficiently into this market of the under 30 generation. Most of these young people have very little knowledge or memory of the early days of the MDC struggles against ZANU PF. They are not seriously concerned with what happened in the past but are interested with what’s happening now and their future. However, politicians are still talking the same old language of the past.
Many young people are disillusioned with politics and the majority are not even registered to vote. Yet given that Zimbabwe’s population is very young, and the levels of unemployment are excessively high at more than 80%, it is the younger people who are suffering the effects of the economic crisis and have been reduced to hopelessness. They are graduating from colleges but they cannot get any jobs and those who are in jobs are not being paid well or at all. They are the ones who are bearing the heavy costs of electoral theft, particularly because most of them did not participate in the 2013 elections, either because they were not registered to vote or were simply not yet eligible to vote. When #ThisFlag movement came along, raising issues that concern their generation, it offered them a voice and an avenue to express themselves, using social media tools that are their natural and most comfortable platforms. It is unsurprising that #ThisFlag movement has become a rallying point for young people both in Zimbabwe and in the Diaspora.
Cost of electoral theft
However, in my opinion, the rising cost of electoral theft and the convergence of related issues is the key factor which has contributed to relative success of the citizens’ movement compared to previous attempts to mobilise the people against the Mugabe government since 2013. Put simply, in the early period following the 2013 elections, the cost of electoral theft was low, but it has been steadily rising to a point where it has become unbearable. I must explain what I mean by this phenomenon of the cost of electoral theft.
Back in 2013, soon after ZANU PF claimed victory in the seminal elections, when many of us in the opposition were deflated, we were all convinced that ZANU PF had stolen the elections, I mentioned in passing that there in controversial circumstances, I pointed out that sooner or later Zimbabwe would feel the cost of electoral theft. The cost of electoral theft relates to the harm arising from a stolen election. A stolen election suffers a legitimacy deficit in the normative sense. The election may be declared free and fair by electoral authorities, but if it is considered sufficiently impaired to be unacceptable to significant portions of local stakeholders and internationally, then it has a ripple effect on the manner in which the country is viewed externally. Elections are expected to meet certain minimum standards and even if the local and regional bodies judge them to be free and far, as they did in respect of the 2013 elections, if they do not comply with generally accepted international standards, they will be regarded as lacking normative legitimacy. The controversial election result of 2013 may have been accepted by SAD and the AU, but the local opposition and civil society and significant parts of the international community did not accept it as a fair reflection of the electoral will. Much of this was because of the unfair manner in which the election was conducted, in which ZANU PF had unfair and excessive control of the system. The refusal to avail the electronic copy of the voters’ roll was just one of the more blatant examples of a severely compromised election. This meant the post-2013 government of Zimbabwe never got international acceptance. Even through China was supportive, they were also sceptical due to uncertainty over President Mugabe’s age and the question of succession. ZANU PF’s failure to resolve the succession question and associated problems also gave rise to political costs which, added to the cost of electoral theft have created a toxic cocktail which has driven the tide of discontent among the people. The lack of normative legitimacy has haunted the government ever since, bringing with it what I refer to as the costs of electoral theft.
Riding on the Inclusive Government
My view when I expressed this thesis in 2013 was that the cost of stealing an election would be relatively low at the start of ZANU PF’s exclusive rule soon after the elections. The reason for this was that ZANU PF would be riding on the relative success of the days of the Inclusive Government. It’s common cause that the Inclusive Government between 2009 and 2013 brought a measure of economic stability after the previous years of hyperinflation. Zimbabwe effectively abolished its currency, which had become worthless, and adopted a multi-currency regime. The Inclusive Government registered positive economic growth, solved the problem of shortages of goods and currency challenges. External support helped Zimbabwe restore social services in areas of health and education. The Government was struggling but it was able to pay its workers’ wages. The Finance Minister, Tendai Biti was frugal and ran a tight ship on government spending, emphasising the need for government to live within its means. The Inclusive Government was not perfect but t made some important gains and brought stability.
The result was that when ZANU PF regained exclusive control after the 2013 elections, it could afford to dismiss the Inclusive Government as an inconvenience, but the reality was that it was riding on the benefits of its success. The cost of electoral theft was low in the first year after the 2013 elections, although it began to rise in the second year as the ZANU PF government exhausted the accrued benefits of the Inclusive Government.
Rising costs of electoral theft
The costs of electoral theft were exacerbated by the costs of poor government. After four years of benefitting from the broad skills and goodwill of the Inclusive Government, after 2013, ZANU PF now had to perform the task of government on its own. But notwithstanding its rhetoric, ZANU PF has shown itself over the years to be inept and clueless when it comes to matters of economic management. It has no fiscal discipline and has a penchant for consuming more than it produces. When Finance Minister, Patrick Chinamasa decided to suspend bonuses for public servants in 2015, his financially prudent decision was quickly over-ruled by President Mugabe. The government struggled to find the money to pay those bonuses and has been paying them bit by bit during the first half of 2016. After stealing the election, the ZANU PF government has spent more time squabbling between its factions than on the economy.
By mid-2016, government was failing to pay public servants wages’ on time. Cash shortages became a severe problem in 2016, although the problems had started earlier. By May government was announcing the introduction of what is effectively a new currency in all but name – the so-called bond-notes. The ostensible reason is to drive exports and reduce cash shortages, but most people believe it’s a move by government to start printing money, as it did during the days of the now defunct Zimbabwe Dollar. Finance Minister has been globe-trotting, trying to strike a deal with the IMF to reduce its $US10 billion arrears, with the hope of opening up new lines of credit. But a bad human rights record and escalating repression are threatening to derail his efforts, showing also the costs of repression.
On 26 July 2016, the country’s stock market, the Zimbabwe Stock Exchange recorded total trades of just $105 – a sign of extremely low activity and low confidence in the market. It recovered to about $155,000 the next day, still very low by normal standards. There is no better sign of the crisis of confidence the country is facing at this juncture. These costs are made worse by rising corruption in government. Rent-seeking behaviour among government ministers, senior officials and related parties is costing the country billions of dollars. In February 2016, President Mugabe disclosed that the country had lost $15 billion worth of diamond revenue, due to corruption.
In short, Zimbabwe’s extremely high costs of electoral theft are manifesting in poor government and ultimately, in Zimbabwe’s sinking economy. Unless the government secures a financial rescue package, these costs will continue to escalate, the economy will continue to sink to a point where it will be unsustainable.
The above theory of costs of electoral theft might help to explain why the citizens’ movement led by Pastor Mawarire gained more traction in 2016 than previous efforts which dealt with very similar concerns. Others have expressed this as the convergence of factors which helped advance the citizens’ movement – for example the 6th July stay-away was aided by the failure of government to pay June wages for public servants, the import ban and complaints by bus operators over excessive road-blocks – by as I argue, all these are manifestations of the cost of electoral theft. People responded more positively to Pastor Mawarire not just because of the message but largely because they were feeling the escalating costs of electoral theft – which is a convergence of all the challenges arising from a government that failed to gain international acceptance due to a stolen election. To understand this, we have to compare with an earlier abortive effort to do precisely what Pastor Mawarire has been doing.
When Itai Dzamara began his campaign back in 2014, the costs of electoral theft were still contained by the relative successes of the Inclusive Government years. Most people could still get by and few paid attention to the message he was preaching. There was no appetite for protest because the costs of electoral theft and the costs of repression were still low. Indeed, some even dismissed it as a hopeless campaign. Most people only took notice after his abduction and disappearance in March 2015. Another factor that added to people’s woes was the July 2015 Supreme Court judgment which allowed employers to fire workers on notice led to thousands of redundancies on short notice. Estimates suggest that at least 15,000 workers lost their jobs, adding to the plus 80% already on the streets.
With such high costs of electoral theft manifesting, Pastor Mawarire emerged at a time when the nation was bursting with frustration. The Diaspora too has not been spared: in South Africa, where the majority of Zimbabwean Diaspora live, the fall of the South Africa currency has had a devastating effect on their well-being. A huge source of remittances, the fall of the ZAR has made it more difficult for Zimbabweans to support their families back home. The crisis in Zimbabwe also affects them, as they have to carry the burden while struggling to cope with the dramatic fall of the ZAR.
Weak opposition
The pastor’s message also arrived at a time when the traditional opposition parties and organised civil society were in a state of general disarray. After years of knocking on ZANU PF’s door, frustration and fatigue seem to have hit both the opposition and civil society sectors. This has resulted in splits and general lethargy. This has dampened public confidence in the opposition, leaving many disillusioned. The continuous in-fighting in the opposition and an apparent unwillingness to form a united coalition at a time when ZANU PF seems to be at its weakest has been damaging. People feel there is little hope against ZANU PF when the opposition is splintered. Some have walked away from politics or sat on the fence, waiting and hoping for something that might revive their interest and passions again. When Pastor Mawarire arrived on the scene, his courage and words ignited some hope. He was new. He had no political baggage. He is a man of cloth. Zimbabweans are a deeply religious people, and seeing a man of cloth must have appealed to many who would otherwise keep away from politically-related matters of national governance.
The rural constituency
The challenge for the citizens’ movement remains penetrating the rural areas, where 67% of the population lives. It has done incredibly well to raise activity among the urban youth in suburban zones, who would normally stay in their cocoons, believing politics to be for other people. However, the rural areas remain difficult terrain, although there are promising signs from some videos that the message is getting there. One of the strategies is to speak the ordinary language of the people, to speak in the vernacular and to address issues that specifically concern rural people. The rural economy is agro-based and the issues that affect them are specific to their environment. Most of the messages being propagated by the citizens’ movement today relate mostly to the urban people. But ZANU PF is very crafty when it comes to the rural constituency – it knows the language that appeals to them and uses it effectively. While it uses intimidation, it is also very effective in its engagement of rural people – their issues and fears.
The opposition parties have not always managed to crack the rural areas, partly because ZANU PF has built walls around this key constituency, but also partly because their messages have not appealed specifically to rural people. This is something the citizens’ movement needs to do in order to get greater attention from the rural constituency. Of course language matters – while literacy levels in Zimbabwe are high, using English in the rural areas fails to communicate key messages to the people. It’s important to use vernacular languages in the communications. The natural tendency is to speak to people that look and sound familiar, but actually, the biggest market that needs communications is outside the urban bracket.
State response
The response of the state, typically with instruments of repression, shows that the citizens’ movement has made an impact. The influential role taken by Pastor Mawarire can be seen by a comparison with how President Mugabe reacted to him and another young man who has openly challenged him. Acie Lumumba even used an expletive against Mugabe. Pastor Mawarire has been firm but polite in his criticism. Yet Mugabe has been attacking Pastor Mawarire more and has hardly said a word about Lumumba. The form book shows that Mugabe only tends to respond those who pose a genuine threat to his power. Pastor Mawaire now joins the ranks of Morgan Tsvangirai, Joshua Nkomo, Joice Mujuru – people who were treated with utmost contempt and harangued when they posed a threat to Mugabe. All others Mugabe tends to ignore and pretend as if nothing is happening. It’s a mark of Pastor Mawarire’s impact and indeed the effect of the citizens’ movement that twice in public Mugabe has attacked and threatened him. The spate of repressive conduct will continue, as is seen by the arrest of leaders of the war veterans association. This is not new. It’s how Mugabe and ZANU PF have always responded to any challenges to their power. For them, criticism amounts to treason or their favourite charge these days, “subverting constitutional government”.
Conclusion
My principal argument in this article is that while there are various factors that have accounted for the phenomenal rise in the citizens’ movement, it is largely because of their convergence around the cost of electoral theft. The notion that the election was stolen undermined the normative legitimacy of the Zimbabwean government, which has haunted the regime since 2013. Further, after retaining exclusive control of government in such controversial circumstances, the costs of a poor, inefficient and clueless ZANU PF government have added to the country’s woes. The country was able to absorb these costs in the early months, but they have been rising as government consumed more than it was producing. It was renting stability from the relative success of the Inclusive Government. However, those rents are now exhausted, as signified by cash shortages and its failure to pay public servants’ wages on time.
Within the costs framework, the cost of electoral theft has escalated to levels where the Zimbabwean state is now on the brink of complete failure, unless it can get a rescue package. However, this will only be a temporary solution pending restoration of normative legitimacy. The big lesson from this is that unless the 2018 elections resolve the legitimacy deficit, the costs of electoral theft will remain a serious handicap on government. In order to deal with the legitimacy deficit, Zimbabwe must commit itself to comprehensive electoral reforms and serious consideration must be given to holding internationally-assisted elections.
There was great hope when Zimbabweans went into the election on July 31 2013. But spirit were deflated on 1 August as it emerged that ZANU PF had prevailed and in many eyes, by foul means. President Mugabe and his team assumed power, but they lacked local concession and the international acceptance which they craved. The result is that the government has been saddled with a serious normative legitimacy deficit. The costs have been too heavy to bear and after riding on the success of the coalition government, those rents are now exhausted and the situation is captured by the old Latin maxim – res ipsa loquitor: the evidence speaks for itself.
waMagaisa
