General ‘gained China’s blessing’ for his coup
Plot mastermind’s visit to Beijing last week shows its growing influence in Africa, say analysts
THE general behind Zimbabwe’s coup may have sought Chinese approval days before the army launched its takeover of Robert Mugabe’s government, it emerged yesterday.
Mr Mugabe remained under house arrest last night, still president of Zimbabwe, if in name alone, a prisoner of once slavishly loyal generals who now hold the country’s fate in their hands.
As the former British colony faced a deeply uncertain future under military tutelage, a trip to Beijing by Gen Constantino Chiwenga, the head of the military, last week has reignited concerns about rising Chinese influence in Africa.
Although the Chinese foreign ministry insisted Gen Chiwenga’s visit was “routine”, analysts have suggested that Beijing may have given the army chief its tacit blessing. China, which has displaced the West to become Africa’s largest trading partner and is a major investor in Zimbabwe, notably declined to call for Mr Mugabe’s restoration yesterday, despite his long ties to Beijing dating back to the Cold War.
Instead, China’s foreign ministry merely stated that Beijing was “paying close attention to developments”, prompting suggestions it had agreed to sacrifice “Comrade Mugabe” in the interests of an orderly succession.
As military vehicles and soldiers took up positions across Harare, ordinary Zimbabweans looked on in stunned silence, perhaps unable to countenance the prospect of their country without the man who bestrode it for nearly four decades.
The intentions of the generals remain unknown, with little direction given save for a terse announcement on state television declaring that Mr Mugabe, 93, was safe and ostensibly still in power – even as an operation was launched to remove the “criminals” at the heart of his regime.
Silence followed the announcement, mirrored by Mr Mugabe himself, who has been denied all contact with the outside world save for a brief call to Jacob Zuma, the South African president, to prove he was still alive.
The army’s main objective was to hunt down cabinet allies of the president’s wife, Grace, whose bid to succeed her husband sparked the coup. At least two leading members of her faction, including the finance minister, were detained yesterday, with the whereabouts of others unknown.
The generals insisted they were not launching a coup, but the meticulous planning, swift execution and even the military music played on loop on the airwaves suggested otherwise.
Armoured personnel carriers that appeared on the northwestern outskirts of Harare late on Tuesday afternoon were the first sign that something was amiss. But even then there was significant ambiguity. Some analysts wondered if the military vehicles were on routine manoeuvres. Others suggested the generals were merely engaged in a show of force.
As darkness fell, it became apparent that Mr Mugabe’s 37-year dominance over Zimbabwe was facing such a serious challenge that his presidency would not survive the night.
Soldiers took up positions at major intersections rapidly, and without apparent resistance, sealing off the approaches to government districts in the north of the city.
Before midnight, a convoy launched an assault on the barracks of the presidential guard, still thought to be loyal to Mr Mugabe, in Dzivarasekwa, a suburb of western Harare. It was quickly, perhaps even bloodlessly, captured.
Simultaneously, other units moved to secure important installations in government districts, surrounding parliament, government offices and the studios of state television.
A series of explosions could be heard from the north of the city in the early hours of yesterday morning, while gunfire was exchanged outside Mr Mugabe’s residence in Borrowdale.
By 1am, with the first phase of the coup complete and the president in the army’s custody, Maj-gen Sibusiso Moyo, designated as the plotters’ spokesman, addressed the nation from the studios of the Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation.
“The situation in our country has moved to another level,” he announced, before assuring viewers that Mr Mugabe and his family were safe and that their security was “guaranteed”. He promised a return to normality – as coup leaders often do – once criminals in the government had been removed.
As Zimbabweans digested the news, many spoke of their mixed feelings about the rapidly developing events.
“I don’t support the army, but I am happy to see Mugabe gone,” Rumbi Katepfu, who sells mobile phones, told Reuters. “Maybe this country can start to develop again. I did not think this would ever happen … We used to think Mugabe and Grace were invincible.”
Gen Moyo may have become the face of the coup, but he certainly was not its mastermind.
That role fell to two far more powerful figures: Emmerson Mnangagwa, Mr Mugabe’s vice president until he was sacked last week, and Gen Chiwenga.
The dismissal of Mr Mnangagwa,
known by Zimbabweans as “The Crocodile”, last week represented the culmination of a bitter feud within the ruling Zanu-pf party to succeed the ailing Mr Mugabe. It also set the coup in motion.
Mr Mnangagwa, supported both by the army high command and veterans of the Seventies rebellion against white minority rule, had long seemed the obvious choice to replace Mr Mugabe. But in recent months it had become apparent he had lost out to a younger faction led by Grace Mugabe, whom Mr Mnangagwa had last month accused of lacing his ice-cream with poison.
Mrs Mugabe’s true poison was her tongue. The day before her rival’s dismissal she told her husband during a ruling party rally that “the snake must be hit on the head”.
Mr Mnangagwa fled the country and, as his chief lieutenants were removed, it seemed that Mrs Mugabe had won a stunning victory.
But from across the border in South Africa, Mr Mnangagwa was marshalling his forces in the knowledge that many Zimbabweans resented Mrs Mugabe’s lavish lifestyle and objected to her “coup by marriage certificate”.
With the army fearing that the purge of the Mnangagwa faction could soon ensnare their high command, Gen Chiwenga made an unprecedented military intervention in politics on Monday. Flanked by 30 senior army colleagues, he demanded an end to the purge warning that otherwise “the military will not hesitate to step in”.
Mr Mugabe, his once ruthless political instincts eroded by age, appeared oblivious to the danger. Even as the army moved into position on Tuesday, he blithely chaired a cabinet meeting, while his wife told supporters “no one will remove the president except God”.
By yesterday afternoon, Mr Mugabe was under house arrest and his wife’s “G40” faction in custody or on the run. As for the First Lady herself, there was no word, except unconfirmed reports she was heading into exile in Namibia.
But amid the uncertainty, one thing seemed clear. The Mugabe dynastic dream had been mauled into oblivion, devoured by the crocodile the president himself had created.