Robert Mugabe the last of a generation of liberators
RG or “Gushungo”, as many of his countrymen refer to him, is gone. Even after his 2017 ousting by the military, Robert Gabriel Mugabe’s legacy continued to cast a shadow over Zimbabwe.
His legacy was as much a bundle of contradictions as his 95-year life had been. The same man who built an impressive health-care and educational system would in later years school his own children outside Zimbabwe and die in Singapore.
Mugabe was at times a champion of reconciliation and unity, and at other times a divisive figure within Zanu-PF and the entire nation. The man who swept to power on a groundswell of popular support,
reluctantly let go of power in a bloodless palace coup mobilised by his own social base of generals and militants.
His passing, and all that comes with it, is a poignant reminder of the many unfinished political and policy tasks that continue to confront postcolonial Africa. His achievements and failures are a lesson to all, not least of all South Africans.
The first crucial observation is that this is the end of a generation of mission-educated nationalists who fought colonialism and apartheid.
But as Zimbabwean academic and commentator Ibbo Mandaza indicated on MetroFMTalk, this generation of liberators and their experiences have often not shaped up to the task of national reconstruction and state formation.
“These people gave it all, and I think we need to honour that and give credit. These people went through hell. They gave it all. Their lot was to bring independence and I don’t say they had the capacity to take us further than that,” Mandaza said.
The second lesson is that political developments and the impatience of the electorate can at times overtake the “slow” turn of the wheels of policy and governance. An example is the impatience with social redistribution of many in Mugabe’s traditional base, which prompted a rapidly undertaken land reform process that earned him many enemies, at home and abroad.
The political economy constraints of an earlier period and the acceptance by Mugabe and his collaborators of advice from the IMF and other transnational interests ruined the industrial profile of Zimbabwe and amplified any economic shocks. Put simply, it made the socioeconomic effect of his “failures” later on more pronounced, far reaching and long lasting.
This is a lesson for SA, whose numerous sociopolitical and structural characteristics make a similar route to crisis a strong possibility. Mandaza suggested much of this has to do with the failure of the political class to “intervene” to break key structural continuities in the SA economy, like concentrated product and financial markets and unequal landownership patterns.
“We were afraid to challenge white economic power and to take the necessary risks. We delayed dealing with land for 20 years and when we did, we did so for different reasons, because we became part and parcel of white privilege as Africans. When I look at SA your problems will be compounded far beyond Zimbabwe,” Mandaza said.
Some may read the learned professor’s words as alarmist or as an ominous observation of avoidable paths to crisis. Yet if the social crisis continues, as seen in acts of Afrophobia, gender-based violence and sporadic but recurring protests at local level, the signs are there for all to see.
The exit of the much despised and in some quarters much loved African “strong man” is a reminder that difficult choices may be easier to make when the sun shines but are unavoidable in times of crisis.
The option, no matter how unnerving the image, is to never look away.