The press makes these pieces of news as sensational scoops but, actually, stories about Mugabe’s reign of terror are so ubiquitous that they have become nearly trite. Nothing new and unpredictable, really. Everyone has accepted that he is a devil on earth.

People are not numbed by these reports as much as these uniformly-themed stories now just go over their heads.

When Mugabe gets a fatal heart attack or succumbs to death by an assassin’s bullet, now, that’s news!

The probelm being that when Mugabe shuffles off his mortal coil, whether he jumps or if he is pushed, there are so many others of his ilk that are banging on the door to take his place.

Emmerson Mnangagwa is the current #1 choice (Mugabe’s choice) - though I see him as a much more meek person - his is still capable of having the Zimbabwean people on the mat in double quick time.

Another one to watch is the current chief of the army - Constantine Chiwenga (and his vicious wife, Jocelyn) - these are two people who will kill just to stay ahead of the crowd.

The answer to Zimbabwe is a clean break from ZANU PF.

Followed by a re-entry into the international community - and, of course, some SERIOUS rebuilding, not only physically, but also of some relationships...

Take care.

Robb WJ Ellis
The Bearded Man

The only way out is to force Mugabe to accept a safe passage out of the country for a while and let the democratically elected parties to take charge. But this can be enforced only by a co-ordinated effort of leaders of the neighboring countries, with the support of the U.N.

@ Paulraj

The UN is frail in this. It has been. Other leaders of African nations have tons of problems themselves.”Kill ’em all” really means that if you shoot Mugabe, it’s like shooting millions of civilians, as the junta is sure to retaliate - at the people.

Negotiations in situations such as this has never worked, either.

Maybe, the next step should be to stop focusing on Mugabe (as he is just the junta’s figurehead), and start cracking down the ZANU PF. I don’t know how that can be done but that becomes a political move that can utilize political solutions.

Hi Jonny,

Any plan that may make Mugabe and his coterie suspicious of their post-’retirement’ safety, both physical and monetary, wouldn’t take us anywhere. Covertly permitting and supporting the pro-democracy activists to eliminate the president is fundamentally wrong. Let there be no idea of punishing him for his mistakes. It will surely lead the country into an era of violence and counter-violence and democracy will only remain a foreign word to the Zimbabweans forever.

Armed interference by an international force may help. But, we will have to be ready to see reports of violence in Zimbabwe on the first page of newspapers for many years.

Sadly, yeah... The only way to crack it down is through force. But it’s like the people of Zimbabwe are hostages at the moment. Ram the gates and the people die. ”Kill ’em all!” If foreign forces pounce on Mugabe and ZANU PF, innocent civilians will die.

Of course, a civil war will surely ensue, then the rise of militia, and then a long drawn armed struggle.

It is a very dark corner of this earth that people ridiculously call a democracy.

Forgive me for butting into a very active comment session, but fighting fire with water is what people expect. Hence Mugabe takes advantage knowing that no matter what he does, nobody will touch him.

Fighting fire with fire is more like it. Match Mugabe’s every move with a like move.

The problem is simple. Mugabe has had 28 years start on everybody. Whatever is done - it has been thought of and covered.

The one thing that Mugabe doesn’t know anything about is his own mortality. He believes that he is some sort of superman and even suggested that he would go ’into the bush’ with his aging war veterans... He’s 84...

His health is not good - see photo of his swollen ankle - and it has been suggested that he is terminally ill.

The one thing that we have on our side - the side that will ultimately succeed - is time.

Patience is a virtue and in this case it will be a strength we should all be proud of... eventually.

Take care.

’debvhu

Jonny:

Please don’t apologise. By making a joke of it, you have unearthed it’s inherent weakness.

Mugabe cares not for the people of Zimbabwe, much less the care or concern over men, women and children that live (!) in the cities and towns without food, running water, electricity.

I lived in Harare for many years - and I know now that should I return, you are talking about winding the clock back many, many years - probably give or take 50 years.

There was a time when being a Zimbabwean was a badge of honour. Something that people the world over looked up at.

Today, people hear my accent and ask where it is from - I tell them and immediately there comes a note of sympathy, of not being able to understand the events in that country.

Which proves that the world at large knows what is happening within, just that we are unsure - and incapable - of what to do to rid ourselves of not just Mugabe, but ZANU PF as a whole (hole?).

Regards

Hi Grace. Fighting fire with fire may have the collateral damage, but lying in the gutter and waiting for Mugabe’s men to finish you off is utterly pointless.

Not long ago, when there was the diamond ’find’ in the Eastern Highlands in Zimbabwe, a soldier, who was meant to be protecting the mine, was arrested for doing a little mining of his own.

In court he said, ”How silly for a man to die of thirst when he is standing in a river!”

But then again, staying with the sayings: ”When you are up to your ass in crocodiles, it is very difficult to remember that the original intention was to drain the swamp!”

Regards

Jonny

Rhodesia was a place in time. Calling Zimbabwe ”Rhodesia” today is almost sacriligious. The two countries are as different as chalk and cheese.

I often write in my various articles that for Mugabe to have succeeded, he needed to change not one thing. Not one damned thing.

But he did. He changed something here, and another thing there. All in the name of self-enrichment.

Then his plans backfired and he found that he had to change something else to allay the fears caused by the first change, and so it began.

I get a lot of flak every day for what I write about Mugabe.

In my book ”Without Honour” I talk of actually meeting him whilst I was still serving in the Zimbabwe Republic Police in Plumtree in the mid-1980s.

My next comment I post will be a direct quote from my book detailing that meeting.

The man is a fraud.

Regards

Sorry - the formatting in comments doesn’t come out that well... but this is Chapter 19 of ”Without Honour” - for what it is worth...
“Never mistake knowledge for wisdom. One helps you make a living, the other helps you make a life.” - Sandra Carey
As I have indicated in Chapter 15, I was to move into civilian clothes and pick up an allowance for the privilege.
However, not very long after I started this, I was instructed to join other uniformed personnel on a given day, in full Number Ones - full regimental uniform. Heavy gold tunic, long trousers, long sleeved jacket, green shirts with a blue tie, dress shoes and a regimental leather belt, all crowned with a standard ZRP Police cap - all presented in pristine condition, of course - because none other than Robert Mugabe was gracing us with his presence.
Bugger! I had grown a bok baard - a goatie beard - and now was having to get rid of it again. Mind you, I come from a very hirsute family and knew that it wouldn’t take long to grow another one. (Nowadays, I sport a full beard, and if, for one reason or another, I need to take it off, I know I can grow a full beard in seven straight days!)
The day arrived. Mugabe was visiting Plumtree to turn on a new microwave link for the local Posts & Telecommunications Corporation - which just meant he was turning on fancy new gear to make our telephone system work better.
And he was obviously intent on using it as a political opportunity. Pressure was being applied from all over Matabeleland about the dissidents - and even the newspapers were starting to report the problems.
My job would be crowd control. Mugabe was due to address his ‘loving subjects’ and I had little option but to do my job - in the brilliant Plumtree sun.
Being the only white Police officer in a huge crowd of black people, I must have stuck out like the proverbial dog’s ball.
Mugabe addressed the people, and anyone else that could hear. There were television crews and reporters and dignitaries from all over the place. Most of them looked about as unhappy as I was, looking all pretty in their Sunday best in the Matabele heat - while he turned on the verbal. And Mugabe can talk. And talk. And talk.
I remember thinking to myself that he can say what he wants, however he wants, just as long as he gets it over and done with so I can get something to drink and get out of this heavy uniform…
At last Mugabe sat down to a round of applause - more probably for the fact that he had sat down, than to the content of his speech that I had thankfully blanked out.
A few minutes later the ceremonies were over and people began to disperse, the dignitaries to a sit-down lunch, the povo back to whatever they were doing before Mugabe rudely interrupted them…
I was in the process of bringing my team of constables together to allow them to knock off, when Superintendent Sibanda came up to me…
“You are needed at the luncheon,” he said. He wasn’t very happy at having to call a lowly Patrol Officer to do something, but whoever had sent him obviously carried rank.
“Oh dear,” I thought. “Who’ve I pissed off now?”
Making my way to the area behind the Plumtree Post Office where a large marquee had been erected, I was met by Chembe of the CIO.
“Great. This is all I need.” Now I was a little ticked off, because I wanted to get out of this BLOODY uniform. “A fat bastard with attitude.”
“The chef - boss - wants to see you.” With that he turned and walked towards where Robert Mugabe was sitting. The inner sanctum. Suddenly it all made sense. I had stuck out in the crowd and Mugabe wanted to see me, maybe because he was wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.
He stood as I approached and stuck out his right hand. “Thank you for coming!” he gushed. “I don’t see too many white policemen anymore. Please…. Sit.”
Not only was I a little awestruck, but I was a little taken aback at the pretence Mugabe made at friendship of the lonely white policeman. I quickly worked out that I was the odd one out and that Mugabe was trying to pick up some kudos for chatting to the white man. I did notice, however, the speed at which his security moved to wave away a photographer. I was not about to be taken for a ride - I hoped… Mugabe obviously drew the line at being photographed with a lowly copper, be he black or white.
It was almost surreal.
I sat and immediately there was a place set before me. I wasn’t hungry - but I was tired, but a pillow right now would have been the wrong thing to ask for!
And I certainly didn’t want to eat and drink with Robert Mugabe… something about “supping with the Devil” rang loudly in my throbbing head. I politely picked at food and listened while Mugabe gave me a lecture all about how he wanted the blacks and whites, regardless of which side of the Rhodesian war they were on or represented, to be friends. It sounded suspiciously like his “hand of reconciliation’ speech not long after Independence… (yawn).
Much of what he had to say was political rhetoric and made little or no sense to me. I worked out very quickly that if Mugabe asked me if I agree or not, that if he was smiling, I should agree, otherwise, just keep quiet. Exactly what question he asked didn’t register or just plain didn’t make sense - especially to an apolitical white Zimbabwe Republic Policeman!
The one question I do remember him asking was how I viewed the new Zimbabwe in comparison with the old Rhodesia… What kind of question was that to ask?
I put a pickled onion in my mouth to chew on to give myself a few seconds to think. Do I give him an honest answer and tell him it was crap? Or do I tell him it’s all love and roses?
“It’s not much different, sir.” I said. “The police still get shot at and we still have to put the bad guys away.” I settled on that and was surprised when Mugabe’s face broke into a big smile.
“Well, just remember to do the right thing, young man,” he said, “because I am the one that pays your salary!” All said with a huge, cheery smile, but I sensed that he would have loved to have uttered the same to me behind clenched teeth. I thought I caught a second meaning in his comment, and as the years have gone by, I have become more convinced of it.
He also asked me where I had schooled and told me that he had visited the school, not very many months before! He was excited! I wasn’t.
He asked me about my family which I managed to dodge answering fully, grudgingly offering the small bit of information that my father worked for the government - but was in medicine. He immediately asked if I was going to follow my father in medicine. For a split second I was sorry that I hadn’t - then I would not have been sitting in a marquee with the Prime Minister of Zimbabwe, trying to escape his inane conversation!
This false ‘friendship’, obviously enacted for his followers’ benefit had angered me somewhat… The lies he chose to repeat, whilst I had seen first hand what his Fifth Brigade had been doing to the innocent Ndebele people, were a simple political divide which he chose to play out, in the name of ‘peace’ - I don’t think so!
I was, however, acutely aware that Mugabe came over as a very well educated, intelligent man.
It was then that I realised, even though I was only 20 years of age, that intelligence does not necessarily bequeath wisdom.
I waited whilst Mugabe delivered what he thought were his pearls of wisdom, but were nothing more than excuses for the war, and his policies, and then finally Mugabe must have realised that I was either going to collapse or be sick or something, because with just a flick of his wrist I was dismissed - thankfully. Whilst he was deep in conversation with one of his advisors, or whatever he was, seated tightly next to his beloved leader, I slipped away and went home to change and rest.
Now I did not only feel hot and bothered, but slightly dirtied by the experience.
It did cross my mind not very many days later, that if I had been armed, I could have saved us all a lot of heartache…
Superintendent Sibanda decided that my being called to the table of the Zimbabwean leader was not something he could hold against me, but rather became impressed that one of his officers had been deigned interesting enough to be summoned.
After my brief interview and conversation with Mugabe, all of my dreams and aspirations, now even further far-fetched than normal - my mind out of kilter, my heart broken - seemed out of this world.
I felt convinced that I had conversed with a madman…

Did I scare everyone away?

Sorry!

That was a great volley of comments.
But can I look at it other way around? Inspite of being 29 years in power, Mugabe couldn’t eliminate opposition totally. MDC has put a brave front. Even if it loses the run-off, it has managed to give nightmares to Mugabe and made him run around like a wounded lion.
All dictators have an end.
Maybe militia will turn around and aim at him even if it is for some vested interest.

Mugabe is past his active life. Then what makes him hang on to power? Obviously the powerful players like Mnangagwa and Chiwenga, one of which will grab power when Mugabe is gone.

That leaves one question open. Will there be cooperation between the two when Mugabe is eventually gone and one of the two becomes the Zimbabwean strongman? That is the ZANU-PF is still there and the international community does nothing more than what it is doing now to solve the crisis in Zimbabwe.

What the Zimbabwean pro-democracy groups and the main opposition party MDC want is the removal of ZANU PF. Not a replacement of Mugabe by someone from his own party.

Continuation of ZANU PF in power will only mean continuation of Mugabeism, perhaps with a slightly different flavor. But in that case the present victims of the government will continue to suffer.